A Tale of Blood and Monsters
by Cambrian Beckett
Summary: The next installment in Vali's adventures. This time he is unleashed upon an unsuspecting Planetos, at a time when the world just is not ready for his presence, if ever they could be. Humans and White Walkers alike beware, Vali very rarely plays nice. By the time he's done, there will be no Game of Thrones, no Song of Ice and Fire. Only a Tale, one of Blood and Monsters.
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING: Heads Up! This story is a sequel of sorts. You don't need to read all of it's predecessors to get whats going on, but the basics are that we've got an SI who's spent 4000+ years in other worlds at this point, and sort of evolved into a psuedo Original Character. He is also pretty much the definition of amoral and Villain Protagonist. If you think that might interest you, read on~!**

 **A/N: Well now, here we are again. Another foray into the Game of Thrones fandom and the next in Vali's growing list of adventures. I'll admit, part of me is a little bit anxious to see where this story goes. My first GoT story has long since been one of my most popular stand alone stories, garnering the most views by a landslide on . But my Vali series has been the longest expanding, and I owe most of my current viewership to the stories that make it up.**

 **So here we go, combining the best of both worlds! Hope you all enjoy!**

 **A TALE OF BLOOD AND MONSTERS!**

 **Somewhere in the White Void**

"You've kept me entertained for a while now, so I'm sending you on a bit of a vacation."

I raise an eyebrow at that, as much as one can when in a white void devoid of anything approaching a normal reality. I was also standing, sitting, lying down, and all manner of things inbetween right now as well. Being in the realm of the Omnipotent Version of Me who controlled my travels was always quite an eye opening and frankly humbling experience, though I imagined he'd tamed it down considerably to keep my brain from dribbling out of my ears.

"Is that so? If it's to be a vacation, I suppose I get to know where I'm going this time?"

The response I received was just a tad disheartening as a childish giggle filled the void and I was answered with, "Now where would the fun be in that?"

Of course, where indeed? Doing the equivalent of closing my eyes and rubbing the bridge of my nose as I sigh, I ask the important question, "So when you say a bit of a vacation…"

"I mean it literally yes. A bit of a vacation, with a lot of work tacked on. But fun work! Entertaining work! It's the sort of work that makes you feel like you're on a vacation!"

I stay silent, but do my best to convey just how unimpressed I am through every inch of my currently unraveled being. I know the fucker can read my mind and I make sure to express my displeasure despite the possible consequences that could come from it. After a moment he continues despite my vitriolic thoughts

"… Right, well the good news is that there's no real point in any of my usual limitations for you, so just going to send you in as you are! Isn't that nice? You can abuse compulsion to your heart's content!"

I make a good impression of pursing my lips together and rubbing the bridge of my nose between two fingers before responding, "You know I already decided for myself a while ago that self-limiting compulsion made things more interesting, so that's not really any sort of consolation prize. And besides, when you start with good news I can only imagine there's more bad news. So what is it?"

"Oh… I'm sure you'll figure it out quickly enough."

There's no chance to respond to that, as in the middle of his sentence a whirling vortex appears and sucks me in. I suppose this is my consequence for speaking my mind quite literally and pissing him off, as it's nothing like my normal portal rides. I'd compare it to traveling through the Time Vortex from Doctor Who, but as I'd never actually done that before, I could only assume the tearing sensation I was feeling both mentally and physically was similar.

Still, all bad things come to an end and after a few minutes of that unpleasantness, I fall out of the sky into a new world and land on one knee. I believe Deadpool would call this a superhero pose, though the word hero very much does not apply to me. Slowly standing from the landing, I straighten up and take in my surroundings. A clearing surrounded by trees greets me. From my sight, smell, and hearing, I seem to have found myself somewhere in a tropical region. I-

I stopped suddenly, freezing up for a single second, but quite a long single second it was as I processed something. Slowly, I look down at my completely buck naked body and let out a low hiss from my mouth. So, here was the bad news as well as the second consequence to my earlier impertinence. The bastard had once again stolen my clothes. There was really only one acceptable response to this.

"Mother. Fucker."

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 275 AC (After Aegon's Conquest)**

 **Summer Isles**

I calmed down after a little while. And by that, I mean I tore apart more than a bit of the local fauna before finally taking a deep breath and actually taking stock of my situation. Expanding my senses gave me clarity. I heard all of the normal sounds associated with the tropical biome I seemed to have found myself in, and continued to reach out until I caught the crackle of fire in my ear. The faint scent of smoke filled my nostrils as I turned in that direction.

Now focused in one direction I could also hear voices, shouting in a language I didn't understand. Well, that was easy enough to fix so with a wicked smile growing across my face, I flashed forward and made my way towards the sounds of civilization. The crackle of flames got more powerful the closer I got, and I discovered shortly that what I assumed had been a camp fire or a bonfire was in fact an entire village burning to the ground.

Stopping a ways off from the village proper, I take a moment to actually figure out what's going on, my eyes narrowing as they focus on the people moving around near one side of the burning huts. There are three groups from what I can see, those on their hands and knees, currently being trussed up by those still on their feet, the majority of which held swords or another type of melee weapon. The third group was a pile of corpses seemingly created by the ones with weapons.

All were dark skinned, and I couldn't help but suspect that my presence would weird them out for more than just the fact that I was naked. Still, now that I was close enough to listen in on what they were saying, I was finding out quite quickly that I didn't understand a word of it. I did not know this language, which made me begin to suspect that I wasn't on Earth anymore. I'd spent a few centuries of my long life here and there acquiring knowledge of every language that had been even remotely popular.

I would use the same technique here that I'd used then and just take the knowledge straight from the mind of one of these mortals. Taking in the scene before me, I wait as the last of the male villagers are executed and tossed on the corpse pile. From the looks of things, these were slavers given the way they were more interested in taking the women and children away in chains than ransacking the village.

My opportunity came only a few short minutes later as one of the weapon wielding slavers broke off from the main group and moved into nearby foliage. Following him led to the discovery that he had done so to relieve his bladder. As I'm not a complete monster, I waited respectfully for the man to finish pissing. Once he'd covered himself back up and turned around, I appeared before him in a flash, caught his sword arm in one hand while my other closed over his mouth to stifle his scream.

Then and only then did my fang filled mouth descend on his exposed wrist. Draining him of his blood took no time at all, and at the same time I pulled all of the knowledge I needed from his poorly guarded mind. Dropping the fresh corpse to the ground after a few moments, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and blink at what I've learned.

So then, this is Planetos. More specifically, I'm on the Summer Isles and the only real thing I remember is that they worship a goddess with sixteen tits here. On the other hand, I was right and this man and his cohorts are slavers. Specifically they came from slaver's bay, a place I had much more experience with.

Smile still quite bloody, I turn back to the burning village and zoom forward until I'm standing amongst the still living villagers and their captors. I suppose I make quite the sight, naked as the day I was born yet standing tall and unabashed as everyone registers my presence and I quickly gain the attention of every set of eyes in the clearing.

After a moment of frozen shock, the man I know from my snack's memories to be the slaver's leader steps forward and points his sword at me, speaking in the Low Valyrian I've just learned how to understand and articulate myself, "You! Where did you come from?! On your knees now wretch!"

Still smiling, I step forward towards the man instead of following his commands. I do believe he's beginning to notice the blood covering me. I know he does when I give him a bloody smile and respond with, "Hello there. I have an offer for you my dear Captain."

He takes a moment to look me up and down, before a slow mocking smile spreads across his face. I know the look in his eyes. I can even guess what he's probably thinking. I suspect he believes me to be Westerosi, and to have fallen on considerably hard times. He probably believes that I'm putting on a show to make myself look more threatening, more intimidating. Furthermore, I suspect he's already considering just how much gold he can get for a specimen of my caliber, given the very blatant view I'm giving him.

"Is that so? I'll be glad to hear it once you're kneeling. That's a good lad."

I effect a frown at the blatant condescension in his tone, and purposefully make my tone as affronted as possible, "Now see here-"

This causes the slaver to my right to finally react as with a snarl he moves forward to shove his sword into my face and force me to kneel before his Captain. I've been waiting for this though, having noticed early on his elevated heart rate, his anticipation… he was the definition of a short fuse. An instant later I was behind him, my hand was plunging into his back, and he went from a short fuse to a limp spineless pile as I tore his spine straight out of his back in a spray of blood and gore.

Smile once more affixed onto my face, I turn back to the Captain and drop the spine contemptuously atop the corpse of his crewman. The Slaver Captain is no longer smiling mockingly. He's not smiling at all. Now he's afraid, shocked, and confused and I watch as the blood drains from his face in the face of my casual monstrosity. Bringing my hands together, I make a show of wiping what I can off of the bloody hand, though in the end all I really do is succeed in staining both of my hands red with blood.

"Now then, about my prop-"

"Please, help us…"

Before I can finish repeating myself, I'm stopped by a whisper. I can immediately tell it comes from a woman and after a moment I'm able to pinpoint the voice as I lock eyes with an olive-skinned beauty who's on her knees with the other villagers who have been rounded up to be sold into slavery. Nobody but me has heard her, her voice seemingly beaten out of her at some point to the point that all she can do is whisper.

But of course I heard, and I find myself stopping all of the theatrics to flash over to her, kneeling before her and taking her chin in hand to look her over. She flinches but does not resist, letting me manhandle her while keeping her eyes locked on mine at all times. Around us everyone is still frozen from the brutal and inexplicable murder I've just commited.

My voice is quiet but firm as I respond, "What did you say?"

She shudders, because of course I'm now getting blood all over her chin, but still the woman shows great strength of will as she hardens her resolve and speaks in that same quiet raspy voice from before, "Help us, I beg of you."

My lips pull back as a wicked grin full of blood and teeth spreads across my face, "And if I do, what will you give me?"

To her credit, she still does not shut down despite the demented terrifying sight I must be presenting her with. She does grow a bit confused, her eyes becoming searching as she tries to find what answer I will consider sufficient. Eventually, she goes with the easy answer, only a slight stutter as she pledges, "A-anything… everything."

Leaning in until my mouth is next to her ear, I speak in a quiet tone, "Now that is a deal I will hold you to my dear. You're going to want to do your best to make sure the young and the innocent don't watch this next part. I'm a bit messy."

I straighten up as she spreads word through the tied up villagers, even as I turn my attention to the Slaver Captain, who is finally managing to process what I did. My bloody grin is still in place as I spread my arms wide, "Well, I did have a proposition for you… but unfortunately for you, I've gotten a better offer."

His mouth opens but I'll never know what he was going to say, as the next instant his head is rolling across the ground, forever locked in a rictus of shock and fear. The rest of his crew gets a single moment of respite as I take a deep gratuitous breath of tropical air combined with the smell of smoke and blood.

Then, they all died as well.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 275 AC**

 **Summer Isles – Tall Trees Town**

With their village gone and their husbands, sons, and fathers dead, the women and children I'd ended up rescuing had nowhere to go except for the largest settlement on the Summer Isles, Tall Trees Town. Which at the end of the day, was just fine with me as I needed a port town to find suitable passage to the more interesting parts of Planetos.

The Slaver's ship had been nearby, but with my massacre there hadn't been enough men left on the boat to get it anywhere. So I'd killed all of them as well, taken the Captain's finest clothing from his quarters as well as all of the valuables I could possibly carry on my person without being overburdened. Then, I'd burned the ship to cinders out of a sort of "If I can't use it, no one else is going to" mentality.

The deal I'd made with the abnormally strong willed Summer Islander had been rather vague in nature. In essence, help her and hers. I considered the death of all the slavers terrorizing them to be part of that deal. She considered an escort for her people through the wilds to the nearby Tall Trees Town to be part of that deal as well. I didn't mind doing both, though the majority of the survivors were understandably terrified of me before the trip even began.

By the time we arrived in the port town, they were as glad to escape me as I was them, I was sure. I didn't mind children in small quantities. An entire village of them was not a small quantity. In the end, it was just me and my newest pet, who had already reasserted her original vow to give me anything and everything. All she was and all she had was mine to do with as I pleased, and I was quite pleased with that.

Heh, she was lucky she did not have a child as I'd probably have taken that as well. Though perhaps I was also lucky, as I had no desire to raise a child so early in my time on Planetos. Finding lodging for the two of us was easy enough, and I was content with searching out passage off the Summer Isles tomorrow, more interested in getting to know this woman tonight.

Once we were alone and the door was barred, I turned to her, "It occurs to me that I do not know your name. I assume you have one?"

She nods carefully, "Yes. My name is Chatana."

I take a moment to process the name, rolling it around on my tongue, "Mm, Chatana. A beautiful name. You may keep it."

She blinks and doesn't seem to know how to respond beyond saying, "Thank you."

"Yes, your name will remain Chatana, but I have a title for you that I will require you to grow used to answering to. You will be known as Ravia from this day forward."

She takes this in before nodding with a bit more confidence, "As you wish. What does it mean?"

I smile in fond remembrance, even as I take a moment to lament the fact that my newest disciple does not have the red hair I've long associated with my most loyal disciple, "It means unfaltering loyalty, though in your case it also means first of my followers. For now, it will seem like it means little. Soon enough, you will see that it means the world."

The newly christened Ravia soaks this in before voicing something she's clearly been wondering for a while, "What are you?"

I smile, because I've been waiting to say this next bit since I'd been about to say it to the Slaver Captain, before this Chatana had caught my attention instead, "I am an Agent of Divinity."

Her eyes widen at the claim, and I'm a little surprised by how quickly she seems to accept it. I suppose it makes sense what with Planetos being very religious and superstitious still. She'd also seen firsthand that I clearly wasn't human, "You were sent by the gods?"

Chuckling, I shake my head in the negative, "Not by your gods. No, I was sent by the Almighty One. His reach in this realm was minimal until now. I have been sent to enlighten your species to the Joys of Blood."

The brave face she's been keeping up ever since she mustered the nerve to speak up even after seeing me pull a man's spine from his back finally cracks just a bit and I'm treated to an honest moment of vulnerability and uncertainty as she repeats what I said in a questioning voice, "Blood?"

"Yes Ravia." Best to get her used to the name now, even if I was masquerading it as a title, "I hope you aren't having second thoughts about our deal. Anything and everything for saving you and the others wasn't it? I do believe I've done so. Now it's time to hold up your end in full."

I can see her indecision war across her face, but I can also see the realization in her eyes that I could kill every single being in this little port town if I really wanted to and a moment later she swallows thickly and nods, "What would you have of me Master?"

I don't bother to correct her, on the contrary I enjoy the way the word rolls off her tongue. I'd spent four thousand years being known as the Master. It would always bring me joy to hear the title from my followers. Still, I'd probably have to find some sort of title that felt more religious if I was going to be creating a religion centered around the annoying bastard who kept sending me to difference universes.

Wasn't sure how he'd react to this, but I knew better than to actually claim godhood for myself. One did not claim godhood in a world where a.) one was not an actual god and b.) there were actual gods one did not fully understand the true power of. There were only two things I was absolutely sure of concerning Planetos' numerous pantheons of gods and religions. Given the supernatural lurking just under the surface of the setting, there was probably at least some truth to some of the religions. And no matter what that truth was, my Omnipotent Benefactor was far more powerful than any of them.

That satisfying thought in mind, I smile and wave a hand at Chatana's body, "To start with, remove your clothing for me."

She blinks at that, surprised for a moment before a sultry smile spreads across her face, "Your god is more like ours than I expected."

Punctuating this statement by shucking her dress over her head and dropping it to the floor, she preens under my attention as my eyes fall upon her naked flesh. I beckon her forward and she puts a seductive sway into her step as she makes her way across the room to where I stand. Still smiling, I let my fangs slide out into view, my eyes turning gold and black as I look down into her own eyes. Her reaction does not disappoint, and my hand lashes out to grab her arm as she instinctively tries to take a step back in the face of a predator.

To her credit, she does not scream or shut down in terror. No, on the contrary she proves her intelligence once more by swallowing thickly and then tilting her head to the side to expose her neck for my fangs. I chuckle at the submissive move, before bringing my free arm up to my mouth and biting into my wrist. I present the bloody wound to her and give my command, "Drink, before the wound closes."

She stares at me in hesitation, but eventually does as I say without the need for compulsion or any other form of coercion. Bringing her hands up to take hold of my arm, she leans in and drinks long, not stopping until I tell her to. She's left with blood staining her lips and chin and a slightly confused and euphoric look on her face as the aches and pains she'd still been suffering from the slavers' less than gentle actions were healed.

Still smiling, I release her and spread my arms wide, "Now you undress me."

My order has the intended effect of focusing her and with the familiar ground of intimacy and sex back at the forefront of our interactions she's much more confident than before as she slowly undoes the ties and belts holding my outfit together, first revealing my chest and then moving lower to remove my pants. It's nothing she hasn't seen before of course, I hadn't been shy in that clearing, and everyone there had gotten an eyeful of me in all of my naked glory.

Still, there was an element of reverence and worship I wasn't really expecting as she took my length in her hand and began to work it over, her head bowed before me as she studied it in detail. My hand came up and I took hold of her chin to raise her face to mine, our lips meeting as my blood mingled between us from the exploratory kiss.

Only then did my hands move over her own body, our close proximity turning into quite an intimate embrace as she explored the monster she'd chained herself to, and I began searching out the nerve clusters beneath her skin that would most quickly allow me to turn the girl into a puddle of pleasured mush. It didn't take long for her legs to start giving out from under her at the sheer pleasure, and only then did I move us to the bed.

Pressing her down on the mattress, my mouth moved off her lips down to her chest even as she spread her legs and guided my hard cock into her sex. It slid in easily, her entrance quite well lubricated by her own arousal at this point as my hands and mouth did their work. Taking her nipple between my teeth, I pulled slightly while at the same time the tip of my tongue darted forward to tease the very tip. She let out a gasp even as one hand went above her head to grab onto the sheets for support, and the other moved between her legs to frig her clit right above where my cock was beginning to slide in and out of her.

Her orgasm came before mine, as did her second and third as I toyed with her body in a way only a hedonist with four thousand years of experience possibly could. Eventually though, I did hit my own release and I pulled out to paint her belly with my seed as she lay there with half-lidded eyes staring up at me with a dopey smile on her face.

Things escalated from there as I fed her more of my blood to revitalize her, and we explored the entirety of her sexual experience before moving onto lessons from my own sexual experience that left her almost comatose. In the end, she was resting with her face on the pillow, her ass up in the air, and my dick plowing into her from behind as she bit into the pillow to keep from shouting and begging for more in a repeat of what I'd caused her to do during an early part of our fuck-a-thon.

Still, by this point I deemed it about time to move onto the next stage, and as I filled her with my release once more, I leaned over her, brushed her hair from her neck, and sunk my fangs into the unblemished smooth skin. Her body tensed up as I drank from her, but she did not struggle, even as I continued past any reasonably safe limits, and she breathed her last beneath me as I emptied her veins of every last drop of human blood.

Pulling out of her only mostly dead body, I wipe my mouth clean and sigh. I'd fed her more than enough of my blood over the last few hours, and it was only a matter of time before she came back to life in transition to become an immortal monster. Which meant I had to grab one last ingredient.

When Chatana gasped back to life and immediately sat up with wide eyes, I was waiting for her with a glass of blood. Compelling it out of the mortal barmaid was not difficult, and all I had to do was hold it out for Chatana to get a whiff of it and grab for the cup, drinking down the blood with a gusto I'd grown familiar with a long time ago.

Then she finishes the transition and her fangs assert themselves as she spends a few seconds howling in pain. Panting heavily, she looks up at me and I can see the slight glaze in her eyes, "Master? What has happened?"

The sire bond seems to be asserting itself quite well here, but then I would expect it to. Even if Hybrids weren't immediately bonded to their sire, I had spent the last few hours giving my newest childe a very in depth and very intimate appreciation for me. Smiling, I bring a hand up to caress her face, "Ravia my dear, I've given you the Gift. The Gift that we will spread to all who throw down their past gods and their outdated beliefs to accept the love of the Almighty One. The world will soon know the Joys of Blood as you now do."

Instead of the fear and uncertainty she'd first expressed at hearing such words from my mouth, I get a radiant smile as she nuzzles into my caressing hand, "Of course Master. The Almighty One's mercy must be spread."

And then in a blur of unexperienced Hybrid speed, Chatana is atop me, straddling me as she runs herself up and down my length, her lower lips still dripping with arousal. Looking down at me, she purrs out in a hungry tone, "But first… More!"

I was more than happy to oblige.

 **A/N: BOOM! First chapter done. Was it sufficiently Game of Thronesy for ya? Heh, in all seriousness though, please let me know what you think, I thrive on feedback, any feedback.**

 **I will give a bit of insight into the making of this chapter and let you know that once again my writing got away from me. The original concept here was to have Vali be entirely uncaring of the villager's plight, and secure passage with the slavers back to Slaver's Bay, either through physical coercion or compulsion and all along the way passing himself off as an "Agent of Divinity"**

 **But then this young woman had to speak up in the back of my head, a sort of whisper that caught my attention. And I was presented with the situation where, if one is calling themselves an Agent of Divinity, one must answer one's first prayer yes? And so the young woman who Vali is already remaking into the image of his most loyal follower from the previous stories, spoke up and gained his attention.**

 **And as a result, every slaver died and the village was saved. Not because Vali is a good guy/anti-hero or anything. But because she beat the Slaver Captain to the punch and Vali decided on a whim that he liked this path better.**

 **Only time will tell if that was the right decision or not, so please go ahead and follow and favorite my story, then leave me a review would you kindly?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So wow, the response to this fic has been phenomenal! The most reviews I've ever gotten on one chapter, and over a hundred favorites and follows! Thank you so much guys, it really means a lot to me to know you enjoy reading what I write, so please keep giving me feedback so I know what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong! =)**

 **Also a special thanks to the commentors on my other website "Questionable Questing" as they pointed out that my knowledge pertaining to the Summer Isles was rather lacking and that there was a lot more to the place then I originally thought. You have them to thank for this chapter being focused on the Summer Isles, instead of Vali immediately leaving for somewhere else at the start of it.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

 **Year 275 AC**

 **Summer Isles – Tall Trees Town**

The next day I did not seek passage out of Tall Trees Town because of one simple fact. It turned out that my already incredibly limited information on the Summer Isles was flat out wrong. Tall Trees Town was not even remotely close to the largest settlement in the Summer Isles like I'd originally believed, and in fact I wasn't even currently on the biggest landmass in the Summer Isles. The map I remembered from so long ago had lied to me, and wasn't that just sad? If you couldn't trust fanmade maps on the internet, what could you trust?!

Luckily I'd chosen a sharp woman as my first follower and replacement for Ravia. My inaccurate beliefs had come up in conversation and she'd been quick to correct them as I'd made sure to reinforce my appreciation of her intelligence and willingness to express said intelligence. Oh sure, Tall Trees Town was still an important part of the Summer Isles, home of the Talking Trees, thus a center of Summer Islander culture and history. It just wasn't what I'd originally thought. This still made it the perfect place to launch off my religion, at least in my mind.

So instead of finding a ship to carry me away from the Summer Isles, I decided to stay and start the conversion of Planetos here and now. After all, I quickly found that the lecherous pervert I was now holding up as a deity would fit in perfectly well with the Summer Islander's gods and goddesses, something I'd already suspected to be true from the knowledge I had concerning the Summer Islander's ways.

That information all turned out to be accurate at least, the Summer Isles teemed with open-minded folk and sex was a part of the daily life style. Unfortunately, that seemed to be the most progressive part of the Summer Isles. In every other way, they were as barbaric and brutal as any of the people I'd find on Westeros and Essos. It worked for me though, because it meant there were downtrodden and weak to take advantage of. Even in a culture center like Tall Trees Town, there were the destitute, the homeless, and the weak, sick, and injured.

In the end, this made my path forward quite obvious. So over the course of a week, in the morning I would give Chatana a supply of my blood and we would part ways. She, using her beauty and grave to put people at ease, would give out my blood to the injured and sick and spread the word of the Almighty One to those who would listen.

While she did this, I spent my days amongst the Talking Trees, where the Summer Islanders had engraved their history onto tree trunks. I'd always been a bit of a scholar and even when I'd conquered my original world and ruled it for almost four thousand years, I'd still found the time to sit down every once in a while with a good book. Magical knowledge in particular fascinated me and I had owned the largest library of Grimoires in the world largely for that reason amongst others. But that was then and this was now. Reading the history behind the Summer Isles that no fan of the show or books had ever known about was truly a wondrous experience.

Unfortunately, a large portion of the Summer Isles history was recorded via oral tradition, which meant I was not getting the whole story just from my forays into the forests of Talking Trees. Luckily, I could easily acquire the rest… but what was the fun in doing things the easy way? Instead, I'd take my time, savor the moment, and at the end of the day, gaining the knowledge I sought would be that much sweeter.

Thus, my first week on Planetos came to a close, and I found myself standing in the common area of the Tavern Chatana and I had been staying at, a hundred pairs of hungry eyes staring at me, lips sealed and silent as they waited for me to speak. Even the barkeep was listening intently after a few drops of my blood from Chatana had restored three of his fingers a few days prior. That had led to us getting room and food for free indefinitely, as well as the use of his tavern as a meeting place.

I let a low smile build across my face and spread my arms wide, "I welcome you in the name of the Almighty One. As his Messenger, I stand before you now not with words of whimsy and empty promises, but instead with infallible proof to my god's existence, and his power in this realm."

A voice immediately rose up from the crowd, a loud boisterous and quite large fellow who stood from his seat and pointed a thick index finger at me, "And who're you supposed to be Messenger? I came tonight to hear the pretty lady speak. She's the one that healed me, not you."

Instead of being taken aback or agitated by this heckler, I just grinned wider, even as murmurs of agreement rose from the crowd. There was a reason I'd worn a sleeveless vest tonight and I lift my arms up to expose the undersides while Chatana brings out a wicked looking knife and steps up even as I speak, "The Ravia has done well in spreading my message and the Almighty One's will. But make no mistake Summer Islanders."

As Chatana slowly draws the blade up from my wrists one after the other, cutting deep and slicing my flesh open until red gushed forth before the eyes of my audience, I maintain constant eye contact with the man who'd spoken up. Chatana steps back, but I do not lower my arms, keeping them in view of every member of my audience as they heal in seconds, "The Healing Blood you have all imbibed is my own. The Almighty One has sent me, his Messenger, to lift you up. To bring you into Salvation through Blood."

I can see my display has had the desired effect on those in the tavern. There is awe, there is fear… and in the far corner, I can see greed as a certain Islander's heart rate elevates. This one does not know it, but I have been watching him for quite some time. This man works for the priestesses of Tall Trees Town, and while I have been here not but a week, Chatana and I have already gained their attention with our antics.

With the bait now set, I bring my arms together and clasp my hands before me as my grin reverts into a more gentle and welcoming smile, "You will all need time to process what you have seen here tonight, and I will give it to you. The Almighty One is both understanding and generous."

Gesturing at Chatana, I finish with, "The Ravia will continue to spread the Healing Blood during the day. In a week's time, we will meet here once more and you will have a choice. The Almighty One does not share in his worship. You will each need to decide if you are ready to lay down your old gods, so that you can accept the gifts that the Almighty One wishes to give you. Good night."

I bow and exit the common area, leaving a room full of loud conversation behind me as Chatana follows me back to the privacy of our rooms. I can already hear the heartbeat of a certain individual exiting the tavern, no doubt to report to his superiors. A wicked smile spreads across my face at the thought, before other thoughts invade my mind as Chatana strips down and moves to help me do the same.

She is quite the insatiable minx these days.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 275 AC**

 **Summer Isles – Tall Trees Town**

Two days later, a group of men came for us in the night and I had to stop Chatana from ripping them to shreds as they tore us from our bed stark naked. A quick look from me kept Chatana docile as they quietly hustled us out of the tavern into the dark streets of Tall Trees Town, towards the Priestesses' Temple. They were never going to actually let that second meeting I talked about happen, I'd known that.

In fact, I'd been waiting for this, and I couldn't quite keep a small smile from forming on my face as we were led into a back entrance of the Temple and brought before a woman who radiated power and authority. Given her dress and the way she looked at us, along with the attendants arrayed around her, I would not hesitate to peg this woman as the High Priestess, who I'd heard quite a bit about in the past week I'd been in the town.

I was a bit surprised though, as she didn't look a day over thirty five, and it was a damn good thirty five as well. I couldn't help myself, as she looked upon us I grinned and said, "Here I was, expecting an old crone. I suppose that's what I get for assuming."

This draws the full attention of the High Priestess to me, and a moment later the men who kidnapped us from our beds are forcing us to our knees. I'm still curious about where this is going, so I go along with it and Chatana does as well, knowing full well to take her cues from me at this point. Only once we're kneeling before her, still completely nude, does the High Priestess finally deign to react, stepping up to us and inspecting us as if we were particularly interesting cattle.

After a moment of this inspection, during which her eyes linger long enough on my cock for my already monstrous ego to grow just a bit bigger at the approval, she finally speaks, "So, this is our miracle man? The one who's blood heals all wounds and cures all ailments? I would see this first hand."

It's clear that she intends for my blood to be forcibly taken to use on someone else, but I just grin at her from my position on the floor, "I am always happy to demonstrate for nonbelievers."

This sets off one of the men behind me as the High Priestess' lip curls in disgust and he steps forward to bring the pommel of his sword down on my head. It never reaches its target however, as my hand lashes out behind me, grabs onto his wrist, and pulls hard. He flies over my head, causing the High Priestess to stumble back in wide eyed disbelief to avoid being hit by his body. Falling before me, his sword clatters to the ground as I break his grip by crushing his wrist, and a moment later Chatana is on her feet holding it up in a guard to keep the other men behind us at bay.

The entire room is frozen in that moment, so I take advantage of their undivided attention, "Like so."

Bringing my free hand down on the man's torso, I plunge it into his body and purposefully pull out his spleen. He screams in pain and horror as I toss aside the organ, bite into my wrist, and feed him my blood. In moments everyone in the room watches as the dying man's screams quiet down to light whimpers and his shaking hands come up to check the spot where I'd torn a hole in his side. No one even notices that his wrist is also healed by now.

Still smiling, I stand up. Once again I am naked, surrounded by enemies. I don't think I'll be making a habit of this, but still… second time's the charm right?

"My dear priestess, I would like to offer you a deal."

The High Priestess, who has barely managed to regain her composure at this point, looks at me with a mixture of fear and anger. We're clearly not quite to respect, but she doesn't immediately order an attack so I count that as a win, "We do not make deals with blasphemers."

I scoff outright at that, "Oh come now, I've spent the last week reading your histories! You're more historians than priestesses, what's a bit of religious upheaval? All you truly care about is power anyways, else you would have just tried to have me killed, instead of bringing us here, most likely with the intention of imprisoning me and draining me dry of my blood."

Her eyes narrow at that accusation, and now she gives the order to attack, "Subdue them."

I can't help it, I grin even as I give my own order, "Ravia, kill them all."

Chatana is untrained and untested, brand new to her abilities and a baby in terms of all things immortal and hybrid. She's also vicious, bloodthirsty, and pissed off. Hell hath no fury like a woman who's beauty sleep had been interrupted. The High Priestess' muscle dies graphically, as I stare down the woman who sent them to their deaths, my eyes turning gold and black and my fangs filling my mouth. The High Priestess and the women behind her are frozen in terror as I stalk forward, quite confident in Chatana's ability to deal with the riff raff.

"D-demon! Evil Spirit! S-stay back!"

Holding a finger to my smiling mouth, I catch her eyes with mine and initiate compulsion, "Shhh, it's alright. You're going to tell those girls behind you to calm down, and then you're going to get me a cup."

I'm in for a surprise, instead of the usual pupil dilation, I'm treated to the High Priestess' eyes hardening in anger and her nose turning up at me, "You may kill me demon, but I will never serve you."

Blinking a bit, I look behind her at the still cowering priestesses and then back at her, brow furrowed in confusion. Had he lied to me? Whistling sharply, I catch the eyes of every terrified priestess and initiate mass compulsion, "Step forward darlings."

They do so, even as the High Priestess whirls around. Still, not quite proof, "Pat yourselves on the heads and rub circles on your stomachs."

To a one, every single priestess does exactly as I say, much to the horror of the woman in front of me who immediately calls to them, "Stop! Do not do what he says! What is wrong with you?!"

My chuckle draws her attention back to me. I can't help it as I take another moment to appraise her, the smile on my face turning just a bit sinister, "So, it's something about you then? What, are you supposed to be my peer and thus your mind is an unassailable fortress?"

A moment later, my hand fists in her hair as I pull her head back to look into her terrified, yet resolved eyes. Grinning a mouthful of fangs, I whisper to her, "Don't worry love, I'll watch over your flock for you. I'll be so very good to them."

That said, I bite down into her exposed neck and drink her up, every last drop of blood and more importantly, every last drop of knowledge she had of her people's oral history. After all, it was the main reason I'd let them bring us here. As I finished with her and let the High Priestess' corpse drop to the ground, I blinked a bit as all the pieces fell into place and the gaps in history left by the Talking Trees filled in.

"Huh, so that's how that happened."

Satisfied that I'd gotten the rest of the story finally, I turn my attention away from my little hobby and back to the present. Before me stood a group of sobbing, fearful priestesses, all still patting their heads and rubbing their stomachs at the same time. It made for an incredibly dark yet also pretty funny scene. Still, all good things must come to an end, so with a sigh I put a stop to things, once more compelling the lot of them.

"Alright, stop that, all of you calm down. You, go grab a chalice for me, the rest of you kneel and wait patiently. It is time for your conversion. The Almighty One is both merciful and forgiving. He does not judge you for your past sins and neither do I. All that matters, is the future."

I smile as I look down at the tranquil group of priestesses. This right here, was the start of something quite fun.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 275 AC**

 **Summer Isles – Palace of Prince Wahano Fo**

After turning the priestesses of Tall Trees Town into Sire-bound Hybrids, the religious conquest of the Summer Isles' cultural center was all but guaranteed. In the space of a month, much of the town was following the religion I was mostly just making up as I went along. However, only a portion of the town's civilians were turned into Hybrids, as it was something to be earned and keeping the numbers down made sure the blood supply didn't run out any time soon.

Still, eventually word of the changes happening in the town reached the ear of the Prince who owned the territory it rested upon. And so, a very firm invitation came to me in the form of a group of warriors assigned to escort me to his palace. I went gladly of course, the man's reputation claimed he was pragmatic and focused more on politics then religion and I was looking forward to putting the belief of my 'god' in him.

Brought into his throne room, I use just a bit of unnatural speed to avoid the guard's attempted shove directed at my back, instead giving the appearance of a visiting dignitary as I regally walked the length of the hall to come to a stop before the seated Prince. He's reserved as he stares at me, but disdain is the one thing he cannot mask.

"Your Highness, in the name of the Almighty One I, his Messenger, pay you homage and thank you for the invitation to visit your beautiful palace."

Ah, there's the anger as his eyes flash and he slashes a hand through the air, "Cut the act Westerosi. I care not for your god or your religion. You are here to answer for the rumors I am hearing from Tall Trees. Of Blood and Murder."

I smile thinly but do as he asks and speak more bluntly, "Ask, and I shall answer your Highness."

He peers down at me and then speaks, "It is said your blood heals all injuries and cures all disease."

I nod simply, "It is true."

With a snap of his fingers, a nearby door opens and a servant enters. A moment later he stands beside me awaiting his Prince's orders. Instead, a signal from the Prince has a nearby guard suddenly drawing their sword and slashing across the servant's torso, sending the screaming man to the ground in a spray of blood, much of which hits me.

Raising my eyebrow at the Prince, he gestures at the fallen servant and commands me, "Heal him."

My smile takes an edge to it, but I do as he says. Pressing a nail into my wrist I break the skin and let drops of blood fall onto the man laying at my feet. A kick to his side has him rolling over, and I direct the flow of blood into his mouth as he opens it to scream, "Drink fool."

A few drops make their way down his gullet despite his flailing, and minutes later he is completely healed, gasping with wide eyes as he feels where the hole in his tunic rests, where his bloodied skin is now unblemished and the pain has disappeared. He stands slowly, staring at me with the sort of awed reverence I've been growing accustomed to, but my eyes stay on the Prince as my smile stays affixed to my face.

The disdain and anger are both gone from Prince Wahano's face as he stares at the healed man for several long moments before finally turning his gaze back to me. He's quiet as he studies me with new interest, before finally speaking again, "And in your own words, what happened to the High Priestess of Tall Trees?"

I grin widely at that. My teeth are still normal but I know I look somewhat feral anyways as I reply, "I killed her of course. She cared nothing for my Faith and the Almighty One. She thought she could simply use me for my blood."

The throne room is deathly still at that, and I know that the Prince will probably do something stupid if I wait him out, so after a few seconds to let him take in my words, I continued on, "Prince Fo, I would like to offer you a deal. You are not the first I've tried to offer this to, but I am hoping you will be the first to hear me out. I've heard good things about you."

Perhaps it's the fact that I'd dropped all of the religious stuff for a second, but the Prince actually nods after considering me for a moment, "Very well, what would you offer me?"

I blink and have to take a moment to look around. Am I finally going to get to do it? No last moment interruptions? He actually wants to hear me out? Huh, that's new. Spreading my arms wide, I say my piece, "I wish to offer you two things your Highness. Eternal Life to start, and control of the entirety of the Summer Isles afterwards. United under your rule in exchange for being united under the worship of the Almighty One, the one true God."

There's the silence again, as everyone in the throne room just stares at me. My attention is focused solely on the Prince as he takes in my words and then replies, "You offer a good deal. I wonder at the veracity of your claims though. The Healing Blood is certainly miraculous and used correctly I could potentially leverage it into expanding my territory. Perhaps in a decade I could even be the undisputed ruler of the Isles."

He pauses for a moment, brow furrowed, "However, you claim to be able to offer me eternal life. I require proof that what you offer is possible."

Still smiling, I nod, "Of course."

I don't need to look around for this next part, my hearing has already told me all I need to know as I speak, "You currently have twenty three guards in this room with us. Send them at me with the order to kill, and I shall show you exactly how I intend to help you conquer the Summer Isles under your singular rule."

He frowns in silence, clearly not liking the idea of risking the already miraculous blood flowing through me by threatening my life. Still, he seems to pick up on my confidence and eventually he nods, gesturing with his hand, "Very well. Kill him."

The sound of swords being drawn fills the room for a moment as I'm quickly surrounded on all sides by the Prince's Royal Guard. I take a moment to turn slowly in a circle, locking eyes with each man before spreading my arms wide, "Well?"

They move in as one cohesive unit, and I hear the Prince's heart rate skyrocket for a moment as he believes I'm about to be skewered on twenty three different swords. But I'm already gone, back flipping over one guard's head and landing behind him. A kick to his back sends him sprawling forward into the death trap, and the rest just barely pull back in time from cutting into him.

Using their confusion and hesitation to great effect, I take them down methodically, sending men into nearby pillars, into each other, and sometimes just hammering them into the floor. The Royal Guard fairs no better than the High Priestess' muscle did against Chatana even once they do get their bearings back, and eventually I'm standing in a room full of groaning fallen men, facing off with one last panicking guardsman.

Smiling, I step forward arms spread wide. He immediately steps back, provoking a bark of laughter from my lips, "Don't be afraid. Here, I'll give you a free shot, promise I won't move. Run me through with that blade of yours."

He's too nervous, too terrified to get close to me so in the end I lock eyes and compel him, "Do it, now."

In an instant he's back in a perfect stance, one, two steps forward and he thrusts his blade home into my chest, directly through my heart. I cough up blood even as the Prince nearly comes out of his throne in shock, his eyes wide and lips pressed tightly together as he stares at the scene, thinking my hubris has led to my downfall.

My hand comes up and grasps the wrist of the poor guard who's staring at his close proximity to me with dawning horror, the compulsion ended. Slowly, I push his arm back using my grip and his blade comes with it, sliding out of me. As the tip exits the gaping bloody hole in my chest, the guard stumbles back as I let him go, falling on his ass. Finally, I am the only one in the room left standing.

Turning back to the Prince, I smile a much bloodier smile, "As you can see, I am not just immortal, I am also powerful. I am stronger and faster than any mortal in every way. This is what I offer you Prince Fo. Immortality and the strength to take the Summer Isles as your own."

The Prince leans forward, all traces of his original disdain long gone. Now there is only eagerness and wanton greed as he grins widely and shows off his own pearly whites, "I accept."

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 276 AC**

 **Summer Isles - Tall Trees Town**

Prince Wahano Fo became a hybrid that night, and the sire bond bound him to me and my religion more assuredly than his greed ever would have. From there, I turned the majority of his warriors into Hybrids as well, leading to further conversion to the worship of the Almighty One, and more and more joining in on experiencing the Joys of Blood.

From there, things snowballed. Wars on the Summer Isles were more like deadly sporting events then anything one would find on the rest of Planetos, but when Prince Fo won enough of these mock wars to solidify his complete control of Walano in just two months, the other two major islands took notice. Omboru still fell within a reasonable time frame, but the inhabitants of Jhala had just a bit more time to prepare and even partially unify in the face of the threat my puppet Prince posed, and as a result it took the better part of the rest of the year to convert properly.

In the end, the result was the same. The Summer Isles had thrown down their old gods in exchange for worship of the Almighty One. Not that much changed in their day to day lives. Sure, a good portion of the fighting men had become hybrids, and that number would probably grow as time went on, but at the same time, sex was just as integral to the fake religion I was constructing as it had been under the old religion.

That said most common Summer Islanders had no problem with it. Only those who lost power, wealth, and influence from the conversion proved to be problematic, and most of them were dealt with in short order. The thing I found most interesting about the process was the traditional method of exiling defeated enemies and rivals. I actually quite liked it, as it meant that every Prince my puppet defeated and forced off the Summer Isles would have to go elsewhere, inadvertently spreading tale of the Almighty One as they went.

Now though, a year was gone and the Summer Isles were effectively mine. Which meant it was time to move on. That's why I stood on a dock in Tall Trees Town, observing the loading of a merchant ship called the Cinnamon Wind. A distraught Chatana stood beside me, "Master, must you go? Must I stay?"

I chuckle and bring a hand up to stroke through my first servant's hair without even looking at her, "Yes my dear Ravia, to both your questions. I am the Messenger, it is not my place to sit and become complacent in one spot. All of the world must be made aware of the Joys of Blood like you and your people have been made aware."

"As for you staying, you know your place is here. There is still much to be done on the Summer Isles, and as the Ravia, you must be the one to do it. Prince Fo must be directed in productive ways, and he knows that you speak with my voice in all things."

A sniffle causes me to finally turn to face Chatana, only to find her actually crying. Chuckling, I pull her into a quick embrace, "Ah now, there there. It won't be the last time we see each other my dear. I will call for you one day, and given that we are eternal, there is no such thing as never again for beings such as us. Prepare and await word from me, alright?"

She nods, calming herself visibly even as I pull back to regard her, "Yes Master."

I grin, "Good girl."

In that moment a decently dressed young man interrupts us, "Ah, M-messenger? We're ready to go if you are."

I turn to Quhuru Mo and smile, "Excellent Captain Mo. Let us be off."

He bows quickly and leads me away. I let Chatana slip from my grasp without a look back, boarding the ship and staring out into the open ocean as we slowly began to make our way out of the bay.

The Summer Isles were mine, but there was so much more out there to take and control. All of course for the good of "The Almighty One". I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face as I wondered just what the Omnipotent Version of Me who'd sent me here thought of this newest form of conquest I'd chosen.

I hoped he was having as much fun with it as I was.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Somewhere Between a Familiar White Void and the Higher Planes of Planetos**

 **(Takes place sometime between Vali's arrival on the Summer Isles and his conquest of them.)**

When the abomination in mortal skin had first shown up, the gods and goddesses had made little of him. Until he killed the High Priestess, then they took more notice of what he was doing. There was a general sense of annoyance and aggravation that this so-called Messenger was converting their followers to a god none of them had ever heard of, one who even had the audacity to call himself "The Almighty One".

So, their first order of business had been an attempt at collectively pulling this upstart god to their place of power so they could judge him either worthy or unworthy of joining their pantheon. The rebuke they received sent them all reeling as much as celestial beings can 'reel' and left them all taking a 'sick day' that stretched out a bit longer than a single day.

The next attempt was made by the High God in an effort to follow the line of power between this Messenger and his Almighty One back to the source, so that the gods and goddesses could storm the upstart's place of power and show him what for. The High God of the Summer Islander's pantheon was not heard from again and no one really knew what had happened.

After the second failure, the general sense of annoyance and aggravation had become confusion with a faint undercurrent of fear and unease. Then had come a polit, if surprising invitation from the Almighty One to meet in the middle so to speak. The pantheon of the Summer Isles had collectively breathed a celestial sigh of relief that the new kid seemed to be reasonable, put the disappearance of the High God from their minds as him just going on a random vacation to another part of the Higher Planes, and gone to the meeting place in force.

They were met almost immediately with an overwhelming sense of inferiority as if scrutinized by a giant beyond their comprehension, "Well hello there. You're the gnats who have been buzzing at my gates, aren't you?"

The undercurrent of fear and unease was now full blown panic and terror. There was probably an attempt to communicate, maybe some bluster, maybe some pleading. It didn't matter, because all but one of them were wiped out in less than an instant, gone as if they'd never even been there to begin with.

This did little to help the goddess who was left, as she did the celestial equivalent of hyperventilating and freaking out. The next words did little to calm her either.

"Hm, I've never met a goddess with sixteen tits before. I mean, why would you even need them? Have you ever actually used any of them for their intended purpose? Well, I suppose I've always wanted a pet. I have Vali, the Messenger you lot were freaking out about, but he doesn't really count does he? He's more like a stray cat that I feed every once in a while then a real pet. Ah, I'm rambling aren't I? Right then, I think yes I will keep you. Come along now, no point in wallowing amongst the dust of your disintegrated fellows any longer."

The aforementioned sixteen titted goddess was quick to agree with her new master that there really was no point in that. And thus, with nary a whisper, the Summer Isles Pantheon was no more.

 **A/N: So there it is! And some of you may have noticed I didn't exactly elaborate on where Vali was going next chapter. It's because, I'm still not 100% sure where he should go! The original plan was Slaver's Bay, so he could grab an easy army of Unsullied and turn them into Hybrids. That will remain the plan unless someone has a convincing argument for him going somewhere else!**

 **Let me know what ya think of both this chapter and what should happen next chapter in a review please! I thrive and grow off of reviews!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So wow, once again amazing response to last chapter. Thanks for all the feedback, comments, and suggestions. Hope you like this chapter just as much.**

 **Year 276 AC**

 **Slaver's Bay – Astapor**

The trip to Astapor went by without incident, despite my hopes that we would be beset upon by pirates and thus have a bit of sport to kill the boredom of sea travel. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. Fortunately on the other hand, the trip was made much shorter by an immortal crew with super speed and super strength. By the time we made our way into Astapor's port, we'd only just drained the last living blood bag in the cargo hold.

Turning to Quhuru, I smile, "Choose five men to stay behind with the ship, to be rotated out on a schedule you choose. Five should be more than enough to deal with even an army, if anyone is foolish enough to try to steal from us. As for the rest, cut them loose and let them do as they do. They may eat, drink, and be merry to their hearts content, but if they find themselves experiencing another thirst, make sure they know they are to clean up after themselves. No evidence alright?"

The Captain nods, bowing slightly, "As you say Messenger. What will you be doing, if I may ask?"

I grin, "You and I will be getting the lay of the land. By the end of the night I want to know everything there is to know about the Good Masters of Astapor. We have time to spare, but Slaver's Bay is only a stop along our path. We won't be spending much time here."

He bows again and moves to give the crew my orders, even as I find my eyes drawn to the large brick pyramids that sit upon the shoreline. They are in a word, majestic, and I can't help but imagine simply taking one for myself. It's not like it would be hard. By the end of this I probably would lay claim to one simply to own it, but I doubted I would get to spend much time there. My path was aimed towards the west, once I took care of just a few more things here in the east.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 276 AC**

 **Slaver's Bay – Astapor**

Finding a lively party in one of the pyramids I'd viewed from the shoreline was not difficult. It seemed that the free people of Astapor preferred nightly revelries and debauchery, something I had little trouble getting behind. Getting in was not difficult either, though I was surprised to find simple bribes did not work on the door guards, and in the end I was forced to resort to compulsion.

Now Quhuru Mo and I meandered through the party, drawing attention simply from our physical appearances. Summer Islanders were not so rare in Slaver's Bay, but wealthy free Summer Islanders were rare enough a curiosity that Quhuru drew looks. As for me, I stood out as even with a tan garnered from a year on the Isles and a time at sea, I could not hide the fact that my skin color screamed Westerosi to the inhabitants of Slavery's Bay.

However, thanks to our resplendent clothing and jewelry, we grabbed more positive attention then negative. I caught the women in particular admiring us for our exotic charm, though they did so with much more subtlety then women of the Summer Isles would have. And wasn't that a disappointment? The sort of party I was used to from my old world and even from my year on the Summer Isles was not the sort of party the inhabitants of Astapor seemed to enjoy.

No, instead it was a great many old men jockeying for position and power, with the only beautiful women in the equation being those on the arms of said men, or walking directly behind them with their heads down. Two categories, slave girls and wives, with there being very little difference beyond cosmetic between the latter and the former. It made for a bit of a dull affair compared to the parties I'm used to.

Still, it did have its uses, point in case being the flunky I was speaking to now. He'd certainly grown more interested in me after learning I commanded a merchant ship laden with precious gems and gold and had an interest in Astapor's most prized export, the Unsullied.

"If you wish to buy Unsullied, you will get no better deal than the Good Master Kraznys mo Nakloz. You must allow me to arrange a meeting for you. The other Good Masters will try to swindle you, try to give you less for more. Only Master Nakloz will trade with you in good faith."

I raise an eyebrow, not giving away the fact that I recognize the name he's dropped quite well, "And why would this Good Master be any better than any other?"

The flunky wrings his hands together, doing an incredibly poor job of hiding his sycophancy, "Well because Master Nakloz is honest and fair, of course."

I smile thinly and lean in. I don't use compulsion, but I know in an instant that the other man is greatly intimidated simply by my proximity. Toadies like him can sense a predator when it draws near enough to breath in their stench, "Enough of this pointless pontification. Give me a real reason why I should go to this slaver over another. Why would I expect any better than another?"

The man before me swallows thickly, even as my heightened sense of smell picks up arousal from the slave girl behind him. She's been sneaking glances at me throughout my exchange with her master whenever she thought she could get away with it. She was certainly appealing on a physical level, and it seemed she found my casual handling of her master just as appealing. I couldn't help the grin as said master finally speaks frankly with me, albeit with clear reluctance.

"The Good Master Kraznys mo Nakloz is young, younger than any of the other Good Masters. He is untested but he is also very ambitious. He has yet to make a sale of Unsullied, and thus he is not held in the same esteem as his peers, despite holding the title of Good Master. A sale of Unsullied to someone such as yourself would increase his reputation and allow him to stand on equal footing as the other Good Masters."

The man isn't lying as far as he knows it, but he is holding one last thing back. Leaning in and locking eyes with him, I finally use compulsion, "Now, tell me what you stand to gain from finding a buyer for the Good Master's Unsullied."

His eyes glaze over as he answers honestly, "I have tied myself closely to Kraznys mo Nakloz. The higher he rises, the higher I rise. The lower he falls, the lower I fall. His success is my success."

Grinning wickedly, I place my hand on the man's shoulder, "So then, you would say you are very invested in making me happy, aren't you?"

Paling slightly as he realizes what he's told me, the flunky eventually gives a shaky nod, "I… yes, of course. Anything you might need to better hasten a meeting between you and Master Nakloz, I would be happy to accommodate you."

Chuckling I release the man and pull back, "Wonderful. Then I only need two things from you. First, I wish to meet with the Good Master tomorrow. You will have to arrange that, but feel free to assure him that I have no intention of leaving Astapor without Unsullied. All we have left to argue is the payment, he can consider my purchase all but set in stone."

Now my eyes move to the girl behind him, "Second, you will gift me this slave girl, as a token of our new friendship."

Both he and the slave look at me with wide eyes. The slaver is clearly startled as it takes him several moments before he chokes out, "I, what? Her?"

I nod, grin still plastered on my face, pearly whites on full display, "Yes, she's been provoking me with seductive glances the entire time we've talked, and I find I can't stand it any longer. I have just finished a sea voyage with a crew of men after all."

Ah, now there's fear on the girl's face as her master gives her an evil eye before turning back to me, "I promise you sir, that I will have the girl punished severely on your behalf. I will in fact leave with her now to do so."

He moves to step past me but I hold up a hand and shake my head, "No, that will not satisfy me. I will take the girl and we will have solidified our friendship."

My eyes locked with the poor slave girl's terrified pupils, I smile wickedly, "I would not insist on keeping her permanently, but my appetites will not allow me to return her to you the same as she was before."

Now I turn my eyes back to the slaver's, not compelling, simply boring them into his own, "You will do this for me, won't you my friend? What is one slave, to the rewards you can expect from serving the Good Master and successfully bringing him and I together to make a deal?"

The man stares back at me for several long moments before breaking away finally and giving a stilted nod, "Yes, of course… friend. She is yours, my gift to you. We will see each other tomorrow."

I turn my eyes back to the horrified slave girl, her own gaze filled with betrayal as it stares into her former master's back. He moves to leave once more, but I stop him one final time, "On second thought, arrange for the meeting to take place in two days instead of tomorrow. I do not expect I will be presentable tomorrow."

Giving one more shaky nod, the slaver finally makes his escape, leaving his frightened former slave girl shaking like a leaf as I draw closer to her. She does well in keeping her eyes down now, but I bring my fingers to her chin and lift her head up until she is facing me. Her eyes still drift to the side, not making contact with my own as I study her for a long moment.

"Well now darling, time we be off I think."

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Back at the Ship**

Surprisingly enough, the slave girl had managed to let go of her fear and despair by the time we arrived back at the boat. She was now doing a relatively decent impression of emotionless, though I could sense a faint undercurrent of bitterness beneath her blank slate act. Arriving in my quarters, the girl stopped in the center of the room, head down and hands clasped in front of her as she waited for my orders.

I knew exactly what I wanted to do to her, but I couldn't help a bit of foreplay first. Settling onto my bed, I clear my throat to catch her attention, "Strip and come here."

She does so mechanically, and once she's standing naked beside the bed, I gesture downwards, "Kneel."

Once again she obeys without hesitation, settling onto her knees and placing the palms of her hands on the tops of her legs with the fingertips pointed away from her body. I take a moment to study her before speaking again, "Are you afraid of me?"

She does an admirable job of putting on a brave face as she answers me, "No Master."

I smile ever so slightly at the very faint undercurrent of fear I hear in her tone. It seems her defensive mechanism in this situation is to distance herself from everything she's feeling. Well, that rather ruins the fun doesn't it?

"You were earlier. You were a complete array of emotions earlier, when you thought neither I nor your former master was looking. I can still smell your arousal, though it has been diminished a bit hasn't it?"

Her only reaction is the slight stiffening of her spine before she responds, "I am whatever you wish me to be my Master. I am yours to command."

My eyebrows rise, "Even if I wish you dead?"

There's no hesitation, making it clear that she already believes that to be her fate, "This slave's life belongs to you Master."

There's the slight undercurrent of bitterness again. I hum in thought for a moment before asking another question, "You don't feel betrayed at all? Your former master gives you up with barely any sort of fight for the chance at increasing his own station. Does that not hurt you?"

I knew it had, I'd seen the raw emotion in her face the moment after the flunky had agreed to my demand. I'd been curious about why a slave girl would feel betrayed at being passed off by her master. I hadn't really gotten the vibe that slaves got the chance to bond with their masters on an emotional level in Slaver's Bay.

Her response is as dead and emotionless as ever though, "Why would it Master? I am nothing but property. It was his right to gift me to you. It is your right to do what you wish with me now."

Oh now, there's a lot more bitterness in her tone this time, even as she continues to try to cover it up. Grinning now, I reach out and grab her chin, bringing her head up to face me again. Her eyes once more drift to the side, "Look at me."

She does so, clearly reluctant to do so. I immediately initiate compulsion, "You will answer any question I ask you truthfully."

She repeats the words back to me in a daze, and I release her chin, my grin taking on a satisfied edge, "Wonderful. Now pet, tell me why you felt betrayed when that slimy toad let me take you."

I see honest pain on her face as she answers me, "He told me he loved me. He said he would marry me once he had more power and influence, when he was above reproach. He made me feel hope."

Oh now that's interesting. Had I really managed to destroy the burgeoning love between a slaver and his slave without even realizing it? It would explain the flunky's hesitation as well as his attempt at promising he would take care of punishing her on my behalf. He'd done his best to spare the poor girl, so it was completely possible that he truly did feel something for her. But then he'd also thrown her away without me even having to compel him, so that showed just how little those feelings truly meant to him.

Staring down at the slave girl, who's no longer trying to hide her emotions, I find a slow smile creeping onto my face, "And now what do you feel?"

She shudders visibly, "Despair… anger… hatred."

My slow smile turns into a wide wicked grin as I suddenly cup her face in my hands and turn it up towards my gaze, "Given the chance, would you kill him for what he's done to you?"

It's clear that her slave training is warring with her base human nature on the issue, but eventually she spits out, "Yes."

The spite in her tone is delightful, and I pull her off the ground and bring her onto my lap. She moves easily with my hands, coming to straddle my waist with clear practice even as she looks at me with confusion and curiosity. I settle my hands on her bare ass as she wraps her arms around my neck.

"I'm not going to kill you Pet. No, I've decided you will be blessed with the Almighty One's power, after a bit of an… initiation. But you will live, and you may consider yourself beholden to no one but me. That means, when next you see that disgusting toady, you may do whatever you wish to him."

She furrows her brow at that, "The laws of Astapor forbid it. You would be forced to hand me over for execution if I tried."

I just chuckle darkly and bit into my wrist, presenting the bleeding wound to the slave, "Drink and discover just how little the laws of Astapor matter to those of us who are blessed by the Almighty One's grace."

She's hesitant but in the next instant her obedience training wins out and she leans forward to lap at my blood before the wound fully closes, drinking down more than enough. She pulls back, and I can see the question in her eyes, but I don't bother answering. Instead, I shift around slightly, grip my freed cock in one of my hands, and guide it between her spread legs up into her slit. She gasps as I fill her cunt with inch after inch of me and I grin as her head lulls back in response.

When it comes back around and she's looking at me once more, I compel her, "Here's what's going to happen now darling. I'm going to fuck you. Eventually, you'll hit your peak as I'm very good at what I do. Only, you're not going to come down. That first climax will lead into another that's just a bit more intense. And then another, and another, until your entire world is nothing but pleasure and pleasuring me."

The arousal she'd been almost smoldering with earlier while I talked with her former master is back in full force and she even manages a sultry look as she comes out of the compulsion, "Don't make promises you can't keep Master."

I can't help it, she startles a laugh out of me as I suddenly spin us around and press her face first into the bed, thrusting into her from behind only a moment later, "You've got more cheek to you then I anticipated you little minx. This is going to be fun!"

Her only response is to gasp as I hit a particularly sensitive spot inside of her with my thrusting length. I know how to get a reaction out of a girl, and as I proceed to fuck the shit out of her with just barely over normal human speed, I also go about pressing all of her buttons with my wandering hands. It's not long before she begins to spasm under me, and her cries of pleasure fill the cabin in short order. Only, they don't stop, they just get louder as I flip her over onto her front and take in her face as she continues to orgasm on my cock.

Her eyes lock with mine once more, and I can see the wonder and awe as I make good on my word and she finds herself drowning in a world of unending pleasure. A few minutes later I press deeper into her and fill her with my first load with great satisfaction. As I pull out of her, she scrambles to stay connected to me, the expression on her face begging me for more. I just smirk and grab a fistful of her hair before pulling her head towards my crotch.

She gets the idea quickly enough and her warm lips encircling my prick even as her eyes widen in surprise and delight. As she goes to town on my length and quickly brings it back to full hardness, I have to wonder exactly what she's getting out of it. My compulsion was relatively vague, but from the way she's going to town, it seems that sucking my cock is just as pleasurable for her as the sex had been.

From there she wraps her arms around my middle and begins driving my cock down her throat, essentially face fucking herself for me, as if she just can't get enough of the pleasure. She gags and chokes, but keeps going anyways as she coats my length in spittle and long strands of saliva. The sensation of her contracting throat around my cock and her tongue on the underside of my length is more than enough to send me over the edge several minutes later, and she swallows every last drop of my seed like a woman starved.

After that, things escalate as I take back control and proceed to put her through a great deal of what I'd learned about sex over four thousand years, doing things to her that probably really should be illegal and more than likely were in some places on this world. All she felt was pleasure though and sure enough, after fifteen hours straight I looked down at her to find her mind completely and utterly broken under the onslaught.

Her eyes were lulled shut and she was twitching. It wasn't just her mind that had broken by this point, her body had betrayed her as well, trying to shut down even as she found herself endlessly bombarded with pleasure. Her hands and fingers moved ever so slightly, still trying to reach for her abused tits or her drenched cunt, which was still expelling fluids as she orgasmed again and again. Leaning over her, I thumb up one of her eyelids to find nothing but white looking back at me, her pupils having long since rolled into the back of her head.

Bringing that same thumb down to her lips, they open up instantly and suck in the digit, tongue rolling over my thumb as she makes delightfully lewd noises while worshipping it. With a chuckle, I decide that she's finally ready. Pulling free of her mouth, I feed her a bit more of my blood and without further ceremony, break her neck.

This isn't the first time I've done this. I'd ruled a world for four millennia, and in that time one tended to grow bored and test the limits of what was possible. Mind break was a fetish from the life I'd lived even before this one, but it had been largely a fantasy as normal sex and normal people didn't work in a way that one sexual encounter could "break their mind". However, with compulsion, all things were possible.

The interesting part was that the experience affected everyone differently. I had no idea exactly how this one would come out of it. She might still be mindless, like an animal I would have to tame and bring to heel, though the sire bond would help with that. She might even be completely fine, her mind categorizing the things I'd put her through and letting her move on. More than likely she'd end up like the majority though, on some part of the spectrum for nymphomania. Whatever happened, I imagined she'd be quite fun moving forward.

I must have been musing longer than I thought, as the girl on the bed suddenly came back to life with a gasp, sitting up with wide eyes. I hold out a cup of mortal blood without a word and she grabs it and drinks it down as soon as she notices it. The change is completed quickly and I watch, rather curious, as she turns her eyes on me. Her hand slowly slides down her naked front and a moment later she's slowly pushing two fingers in and out of herself as she speaks, "That was… You kept your promise Master."

Grinning wickedly, I stroke a hand through her hair and she leans into it, "I always do pet."

Her eyes are smoldering as she looks at me with a familiar questioning gaze. I chuckle at the blatant invitation and lean down, only to kiss her forehead and pull away, "I know what you want pet, but I've had enough fun with you for the moment. If you want satisfaction, you should go out into the crew quarters and introduce yourself… after all, you're one of us now. It's best that you get to know your brothers intimately. I'm sure they'll be happy to slake every last one of your desires."

She only looks put out for a moment before sliding off the bed and giving me another sultry look, "As you wish Master."

I watch her go with a raised eyebrow. Had to admit, I wasn't expecting so much personality from the girl when I'd first decided to acquire her from that toady. But then, I hadn't picked up on the frail bond of love forming between them whatsoever. Probably because he hadn't actually loved her so much as loved her body going by how quickly he threw her away.

Ah well, his loss was my gain. Grinning as I hear certain familiar sounds through the wooden door, I reflect that I'll probably be joining in on that gangbang at some point before our meeting with the Good Master.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 276 AC**

 **Astapor – The Pyramid of Kraznys mo Noklaz**

When I finally met with the Good Master Kraznys mo Noklaz, it was over a midday meal. I suppose I shouldn't have been overly surprised by that, even if he'd clearly been largely demeaning and dismissive towards a certain Mother of Dragons in the show, this version of the man was not only twenty four years younger, he was also desperate to begin making a name for himself in the incredibly cut-throat environment that was Astapor.

Introductions were finished fast enough and as I sat down at the large table across from the young Good Master, my dear Captain took his seat to my left. My newest pet, the slave girl that Master Noklaz's toady had given me was along for the meeting as well, but she stayed standing behind me as a good servant should. Regardless of the fact that she kept her eyes down at all times, it was obvious that her former master, who sat beside the Good Master, was feeling guilty and uncomfortable from her very presence.

Which was excellent, and just what I wanted. As the corners of my mouth turn up ever so slightly, I make sure to ignore the toady and lock eyes with Kraznys mo Noklaz, raising a wine goblet I've been provided and toasting, "May this meeting prove fruitful for both of us."

The young Master makes sure to smile politely and lift his own wine goblet in response, even as he agrees with me, "Indeed. My friend here says you have all but guaranteed your purchase. I confess I wasn't sure whether or not to believe him, until I saw the treasure you brought with you."

My small smile grows a bit bigger at that. Yes, I'd decided to bring the rest of my crew along with me on this outing. The Good Master was sure of his security and had no problem allowing them to enter his pyramid palace, especially given that each of them carried a chest full of gold, silver, and gems. The Summer Isles and all its wealth was mine to command, so I'd taken along enough of it to fill a ship to the brim on my way out.

"Yes, you will of course wish to have it all appraised yourself, but I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I've brought more than enough to buy every single Unsullied you currently have trained up. As I told your… friend, I do not intend to leave here today without making a deal regarding at least those Unsullied."

Kraznys smiles and clasps his hands together, elbows hitting the table as he leans over it, "I do have to wonder what a merchant, even one wealthy as you are, needs with so many Unsullied."

I blink, affecting surprise at that, "Oh? I see where your confusion stems from. I am not a merchant."

His smiles falls and his brow furrows together at that, "You arrive on a sole merchant ship laden with goods to sell and trade in Astapor. If you are not a merchant, what are you?"

Chuckling, I take a moment to finally take a bite of the meal we've all forgotten is in front of us. Well, not the dear Captain, he's been sneaking bites the entire time we've been talking. Once I finish chewing, I answer the Good Master, "I'm surprised there've been no rumors in Astapor this last year, over what's been happening on the Summer Isles. Have you heard nothing?"

I'm treated to a deepening frown at that as Kraznys thinks for a long moment, "There has been some tell of political and religious upheaval. One or two banished Princes who have arrived in Astapor with barely anything to their name asking for handouts and claiming that the Summer Isles were being conquered and unified under the rule of one man. There have also been rumors of a new god rising in popularity in the Summer Isles. They call him the Almighty One."

"Ah, I'm glad then. I would have been disappointed if there hadn't been the tiniest bit of information about me. To put it bluntly Master Noklaz, the rumors are all true. Prince Wahano Fo is now the sole ruler of the Summer Isles. All three main islands rest under his control thanks to the power and skill of his warriors. The Summer Isles are also now united in worship of the one true god, the Almighty One. My Patron."

The toady's eyes are wide and from the way he's broken out into a cold sweat as I speak, he clearly believes me. Kraznys on the other hand is still a bit skeptical given the way he raises an eyebrow and responds with, "Oh? That is quite the tale. You're claiming to have facilitated the conquest of the Summer Isles for this Prince Fo in the name of your god? I can't help but wonder at how you so easily convinced Summer Islanders to follow you."

I laugh even as the Captain bristles a bit beside me at the insinuation, "Ah, a good point, a good point. If I was a charlatan or a liar like most religious figures, I imagine I would have gotten nowhere. Fortunately, I am neither. My god is quite real Good Master. His blessings are proof enough of that. The Prince converted to my god after a demonstration and followed my advice, and for it he went from a Prince of the Summer Isles, to the Prince of the Summer Isles. I would offer you the same."

That gets the man's attention, his eyes narrowing as he tries to decipher exactly what I mean, "You will have to clarify."

Grinning almost ferally now, I lean over the table, almost half out of my seat, "Kraznys mo Noklaz. You are a Good Master of Astapor. A position of high esteem, but one that you are new and untested in. Your peers do not yet respect you. Your subordinates already look for ways to undermine you."

My eyes drift to the toady beside him, who's eyes widen in disbelief at my own insinuation, and he pales dramatically when Kraznys' eyes follow my own. Before he can speak in his defense though, I continue, "What I offer you is simple. I offer you more. More than this position as the youngest of many Good Masters. Instead of my one simple purchase making you respected by the other Good Masters, I would instead make you the only Good Master."

In response, I get a level stare as the young Good Master evaluates just how serious I am, "That is a very generous offer. However, the Good Masters of Astapor are not as prone to infighting as the Princes of the Summer Isles. Our city works because we can rely on one another. Those below us fight for power amongst themselves, but the Good Masters remain untouchable. If I or any other wished to kill the rest, we could do so… but it would result in anarchy. No single Good Master can control all of Astapor. None have the power to do so."

My grin morphs into something far more sinister. I can tell, because even Kraznys must see something in my face now, as he unconsciously pulls back ever so slightly, "Indeed. Power is the currency of those at the top. Without it, you are nothing. And as you are, you are right, you do not have enough power to hold Astapor on your own. That is where my god's blessings come in."

The Good Master frowns, but remains silent, clearly expecting me to have something else. This goes far in raising his esteem in my eyes, because I do. Raising a hand, I snap my fingers and my pet immediately perks up. Eyes locked with Noklaz, I speak to my slave girl, "Pet, bring your former master here."

Neither Kraznys nor his toady have a chance to react before my pet has moved across the table with blazing fast speed, grabbed the man who betrayed her up out of his seat with super strength, and dragged him back across the table to place him beside me, her hands holding him in place even as he understandably freaked out. The Good Master responded by abruptly rising from his seat, eyes wide at the display my pet had just put on.

In contrast, I take my time standing up, while the Captain beside me stays seated and continues to enjoy the meal. Turning to the toady, I stare into his terrified eyes for a moment before sneering in disgust. Then I look back to his master, "A demonstration is in order obviously. This is what those blessed by the Almighty One can do."

I draw my hand back with agonizing slowness, noting how every set of eyes in the room follow it. Then I lash out and an instant later the toady whose name I'd never bothered learning is missing a head, which is now rolling across the floor. Kraznys mo Noklaz's reaction is unfortunate but largely expected. He immediately yells out, "Guards! Guards!"

The two guards who had been standing outside the room rush in. When they see my pet holding up the headless body of her former master and my bloody arm, their eyes widen and they draw their swords. I just keep grinning, motioning my pet back and stepping towards them even as I look back at the Good Master, "Watch closely Kraznys mo Noklaz! Another blessing of the Almighty One!"

That's when the sword of one of the guards slams through my throat and the other skewers my chest. There's a moment of absolute stillness in the room as the light does not leave my eyes, my body does not fall to the floor, and I categorically refuse to die. Instead my hands come up and grab the naked blades firmly, before slowly pulling them out. A moment later both guards fall to the ground unconscious or dead from lightning fast blows to the head. I couldn't really bring myself to care about how much damage I may have done to the meatbags.

As my throat heals along with my chest, I turn fully back to the awed and terrified Good Master and finish what I had been saying, "Immortality. Eternal life."

He looks like he's about to try to flee, so I preempt that but stepping up and speaking in my most commanding tone, "Sit down."

He promptly does so even though I hadn't bothered with compulsion. Satisfied that I had his full attention, I take a table cloth to begin wiping my hands of blood, "This is what I offer you Kraznys mo Noklaz. Incredible strength and speed, power beyond your wildest dreams, and eternal life and invincibility. All that is asked in return is your devotion to the Almighty One and he will bless you with his awe-inspiring gifts. Tell me Master Noklaz. With this power, could you hold Astapor alone?"

The Good Master swallows thickly as he takes a moment to stare at what I've done and accepts what I could do. Eventually he nods, albeit a bit shakily, though he keeps any nervousness from his voice, "Yes. Yes I could."

Still grinning, I settle back into my seat and motion for him to do the same, "Good, good. Then let's discuss plans for your rightful ascension."

He takes his seat again slowly, now treating me like a dangerous beast that could tear him apart at any moment. Once again, my esteem of the young man was raised by his smart danger sense. Oh, this was going to be fun.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 276 AC**

 **Astapor – Plaza of Pride**

It took a month to arrange things. That day at the end of the meal, the Good Master Kraznys mo Noklaz had become a Hybrid and a true follower of the Almighty One. On top of his conversion was the purchase of all of his Unsullied, whose loyalty had been transferred to me by the end of the meeting. I had a good reason for not immediately turning them however.

No, instead they would be useful in the plan we'd put together. As I'd learned from speaking with Kraznys, if we just slaughtered the other Good Masters, the Unsullied they'd trained would turn on us. Or at the very least the handlers that operated as go betweens for the various Good Masters would turn on us, each taking their own group of loyal Unsullied and plunging the city into chaos. In the end, we needed to convince the Good Masters of Astapor to do the same thing for me that I remembered them doing for Daenerys Stormborn. We needed them to give me every last Unsullied in the city, trained or not.

Of course, I had no dragons to bargain with, but I did have something that Kraznys was confident had far more value. Immortality. So that's what we offered the Good Masters. It took two weeks to arrange the first meeting with them, in which I showed off the benefits of the change without mentioning any of the religious aspects. Then, we took the Unsullied I'd purchased from Kraznys and I showed the Good Masters of Astapor exactly how I gave the gift of immortality.

The ordering was important, because by the time I'd got done showing them what I personally could do against a hundred still mortal Unsullied, they'd been rather afraid and in awe of me. This meant that when I revealed that my blood could pass on immortality, they didn't immediately try to imprison me so they could drain me dry. Instead, they dealt fairly. Their mistake.

Thus, two weeks later we all stood in the Plaza of Pride, which had been fully cleared out for the occasion. Much like with Daenerys in the show, there were thousands of Unsullied arrayed in the plaza before me. Unlike with Daenerys in the show, every single Good Master of Astapor was here to witness this, and a large banquet table was set up for them, with each having a goblet ready for me to pour my blood into.

Taking the knife I was given into hand, I cut my wrist and poured my blood into each Good Master's cup as I moved around the table. Only once I'd done so and they'd all drank did Kraznys step forward, operating on their behalf. The fools had actually let him broker the deal at my insistence, amusingly enough. A few minutes later and he hands me a whip with nine ends, presumably meant to represent the Harpies fingers. With that, control of every last Unsullied in Astapor falls to me and me alone.

Smiling as I take a moment to look over my new army, soon to be immortal and unstoppable, I turn back to the Good Masters with the same grin on my face, "You all know what you must do to acquire your immortality."

The Good Masters all nod even as they draw daggers out of their cloaks. All together, these slavers place the tips of their daggers against their hearts, veins full of my blood and minds full of the possibilities present to them once they are immortal. Then, they sink the naked steel into their hearts and die. I stare at their corpses for several long moments until the last one is no longer twitching, before ordering the few Unsullied Hybrids I'd brought with me forward, "Remove their heads."

Servants of the deceased good masters overhear me and their eyes widen in shock and confusion, even as they too are set upon by hybrids. I have more than enough Unsullied Hybrids already made from the group I bought from Kraznys. Throughout the city, precision scapel-like strikes are carried out as those who will not fall in line are removed quietly and permanently.

By sundown Kraznys mo Noklaz will be the undisputed Good Master of Astapor. No, he will in fact be the Eternal Master of Astapor. I liked the sound of that better, I'd mention it to him later. For now my attention is on my new loyal army as I step down from the dias that the Good Masters had set up their banquet table on and arrive before the Unsullied who were not yet changed.

Large barrels full of my blood are brought forward and distributed. As each Unsullied is given a chance to do so, I order them all to drink and watch as they carry it out without hesitation despite the betrayal they just witnessed me commit. Loyal to a fault is the saying I do believe. Grinning from ear to ear, I order the Unsullied to fall on their swords. Thousands die in a few moments. Thousands rise again minutes later and are presented with human blood. I have with minimal effort and minimal time lost, raised a Loyal, Undying Army. I take a moment to bask in the feeling.

The Summer Isles had taken a year to properly convert. I suppose it was appropriate that one city only take a month to bring to heel. I certainly didn't expect Yunkai or Mereen to fare any better.

 **A/N: Chapter got a little away from me, original intention was to cover all of Slaver's Bay in this chapter, but then this hit 7k words and I wanted to get it out before we went over a week between updates. Let me know what you think of it, and what you think of Vali and his Hybrid Unsullied marching on Yunkai and Mereen. Anything he isn't thinking of that would make the conquest more difficult?**

 **Leave a review and let me know please!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Heyo, new chapter in which the rest of Slaver's Bay kneels before the Messenger, Herald of the Almighty One... and Vali learns how involved his Patron is getting in the proceedings.**

 **Year 276 AC**

 **Astapor – Temple of the Graces**

There is one more thing that must be done in Astapor before I can move on, despite effectively controlling the city. While Kraznys was not very religious before his turning, and thus didn't care what I did, there was still a primary religion in Astapor and beyond that the rest of Slaver's Bay as well. Slaver's Bay still worshipped the Gods of Ghis, and that worship was led by the Graces, the priestesses of the Ghiscari religion.

And so with a hundred of my newest hybrids at my back, I took my time ascending the steps of the Temple of the Graces, entering to find the Graces arrayed before me, the Green Grace of Astapor standing regally at their head. I cock an eyebrow at her, fully prepared to kill another High Priestess as she raises her eyes to meet mine. Stepping forward, I'm treated to the sight of her slowly falling to her knees before me.

Her flock followed her lead behind her, and an array of different colored priestesses knelt on the temple floor in deference to me. I blinked slowly, brow furrowing for a moment before I decide to voice my confusion, "And what, is this?"

From the floor, the Green Grace of Astapor's Temple of the Graces speaks lowly, never once meeting my eyes again, "You are Vali the Messenger, Herald of the Almighty One."

Now frowning, I answer in the affirmative, "I am."

"The Graces submit to the Almighty One's power. A Vision has shown us the true path forward, and that it lies under your wing."

I stare at her for several long moments before slowly grinning, "How interesting. Let us retire and speak of this in private. While we do so, your Red Graces shall entertain my Blessed."

The title I'd chosen for my Unsullied Hybrids was rather spur of the moment, but at the same time I'd been planning it for a while. Blessed was simpler to say and tied nicely back into the religious angle. The Green Grace nods amicably as the part of her flock dressed in red robes to signify their training in religious prostitution steps forward to take care of my newest children. The other Graces move off to continue their own work while I follow their leader into a secluded room.

She settles down onto a pile of cushions but I stay standing, just now noticing how old this woman before me is. I don't give her much time to get comfortable, "You will tell me everything that happened in this Vision."

Sighing as her eyes close, either to rest them or in remembrance, she begins to speak, concisely thankfully, "The gods spoke to me in a dream. They spoke of your coming and they told me to submit to you, to turn the Graces towards the worship of your god."

She stops talking suddenly as cries of both passion and pain reach the room we're sequestered in. I'm not surprised, and I fully expect to leave here with a few red robed bodies left behind. My new children are surprisingly unique in their circumstances. Some are full of bloodlust, some are full of lust and most are full of both. I'm more than happy to sate their new found desires, but I've been having to teach them that one cannot kill off all of one's food supply.

I snap my fingers to get her attention back to me. For a moment our eyes connect again and I stare deep into her irises, "And why would your gods tell you to do this?"

She shudders visibly as the sounds from outside the room grow, "I do not know, they did not give me reasons. However, last night the Almighty One spoke to me directly and told me you would come today. I have a message for you from him."

I'm a bit incredulous at this point. Is the being that sent me here actually getting directly involved this time around, simply because I started involving him directly? And he'd somehow subverted the Gods of Ghis, who were apparently actually very real celestial beings? My face is blank as I respond, "Very well, tell me."

"He wishes for you to finish your work here in Slaver's Bay quickly. Once you have taken Yunkai and Mereen, the Temples of the Graces will spread word of the Almighty One to the residents of Slaver's Bay, both slave and master alike. He demands that you move along and go West. He says that there are reasons that he has sent you to this time instead of another and that you will find it there."

I soak in her words and after a moment I step into her personal space, crouching down to grab the old woman's chin in my hand. Looking into her eyes, I look for any trace of deceit. I find none, but still I say, "You realize of course, that if this is some sort of trickery, designed to cause me to leave your city behind so that you may reinstate control, you will be sorely disappointed. I may go, but my Blessed will not all leave with me."

There still isn't a hint of fear or lies in her demeanor as she stays silent under my scrutiny. After a moment longer I release her and stand, turning to leave but stopping to throw one more thing back before I go, "You are too old, you will not receive my god's blessing. Pick a protégé and begin training her now. Once she is ready, I will come back and she will ascend to take your place."

With those parting words, I exit the Temple of the Graces. Tomorrow I will march with my army to Yunkai. We will see what their Green Grace has to say about this, as well as Mereen's after that. I will find out exactly what these priestesses are playing at.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **On another plane of existence, a short while before Vali arrives in Astapor**

The Gods of Ghis had long been waning in power and influence. Strengthened and empowered as they were by the worship of their followers, the destruction of the old empire had weakened them, and thousands of years of very little involvement in the mortal world had left them weaker still. Oh, not in the face of the young upstarts from other parts of the world, the gods who'd come after them. No, they had still had enough to beat off any such celestial vultures most of the time.

But in the grand scheme of things, they had long been in decline and their glory was but a shadow of what they had once been at the height of their influence and power. It had begun with the damn dragons and the Valyrian Freehold. It had only spiraled down from there until they were where they were now.

That's not to say they didn't still have an idea of what was going on both in the mortal world and on the plane above. The absence of the Summer Islander Pantheon did not go unnoticed, nor did the vast presence felt for only a few moments right around the time of their disappearance escape their notice. And so, they'd done their research and put more effort into finding out the affairs of the mortals than they had in the last few thousand years.

This led to the discovery of the Messenger and his Almighty One. The way he had unified the Isles under worship directed at a singular god made it quite obvious that this Almighty One was also the vast presence they'd all felt and the being behind the disappearance of the Summer Islander Pantheon. A god of gods if there had ever been one, a being they still had enough awareness to know they could never even hope to touch, especially as they were now. So when the Messenger had turned his eyes towards Astapor and begun his voyage, the Gods of Ghis had acted.

Where the Summer Isles Pantheon had gone forward with heads held high and full of pride, believing they could negotiate with this Almighty One, the Ghiscari Gods came with hat in hand and heads bowed before the entity they could recognize was so far beyond them.

"Well now isn't this… well I wouldn't really say interesting. What do you all want? Ah, I see it now. Here to supplicate yourselves before me in hopes I don't destroy you out of turn. Well… I suppose."

There is a sense of relief amongst the Gods of Ghis, as much as beings of cosmic power us mere mortals could probably never truly comprehend can. However, that relief is almost immediately squashed, "But… you don't conform to what I expect from the Gods of Slaver's Bay, so that's going to have to change before I allow you to stick around."

After that, there's nothing but pain as the Gods of Ghis are made anew. Everything about them is no longer relevant. Soon enough they number just four regardless of how many of them there were to begin with. They've been remade into majestic beautiful harpies to represent each of the four cities that still bother worshipping them. When the voice comes again, it's quite satisfied.

"Perfect, such beautiful little birdies. I'm acquiring quite the collection of pets at this point. Now, there's just one more thing left I need from you."

The newly made Goddesses of Ghis are happy to do whatever he commands. After all, if this is how he treats his servants, they shudder to imagine how he would treat an enemy and they have no desire to find out.

"That's a smart mindset little birdies. Very smart indeed."

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 276 AC**

 **Slaver's Bay – Yunkai**

I left Astapor with an army of my newly christened Blessed the very next morning. Admittedly, I was in a bit of a hurry to speak to Yunkai's Green Grace. It took us three days to reach the outskirt of Yunkai. Considering we overtook the few stragglers who'd managed to make their way out of Astapor during the lightning fast coup, Yunkai should have had no idea we were coming.

Then why are they clearly waiting for us? The numerous mercenary battalions Yunkai is known to keep on retainer are arrayed before us and the gates of the city are locked up tight. Yunkai has been preparing for a siege for weeks from the looks of things. How could they possibly have known to prepare? Well there was one way they could have known. I just needed to get inside the city to confirm it. Not at all that hard.

Within an hour of coming into visual range of the mercenaries, I'd received a pompous invitation to meet with the mercenary leaders, who were apparently empowered to negotiate with me on behalf of Yunkai. They seemed to have decided to treat me like a roaming Khalasar, paying me off so I would skip them by. I choose five Blessed at random to come with me and we make our way past the mercenary lines to a large tent where men sit waiting for us.

I don't recognize any of them from what I remember of the show, and as a servant steps forward and opens his mouth I hold up a hand and cut him off, "I'm sure you're about to get into introductions, but I really don't care."

My eyes rake over the gathered mercenary captains for a moment before I zero in on the one who seems to stand above the others, "I will make this offer one time, as I find myself in much more of a hurry at the moment. I am Vali the Messenger, and I come to you bearing the word of the Almighty One. Lay down your arms, turn away from your false idols, and grovel before His Might and you will be spared."

The man who I'm locking eyes with doesn't speak, but one of the other captains does, scoffing, "So it's true then, some Westerosi bastard overthrows Astapor and now thinks he's a god. And if we don't turn away from our idols, what then? Because I gotta tell ya, I quite like getting paid for killing fuckwits like you."

I turn slowly and smile at the arrogant captain, "Oh good, an example to be made."

He smirks back and his hand goes down to his waist to draw a wicked looking sword. He doesn't get it out of the sheath as I'm suddenly in front of him, my hand around his neck. A moment later his neck snaps and I let the limp corpse fall from my hand. Spreading my arms wide, I turn back to the frozen room, as if to say 'whoops'.

"Ah well, it would appear communication has broken down. Kill everyone."

My Blessed move as one unit and I move with them. The rest of my little army is already moving in as well. One of the first things I'd had these new hybrids work on learning was using their enhanced hearing to listen for my voice over long distances. Every single one of them has been listening in on the conversation since it started. As I say the words, several thousand hybrids move, not just six. Yunkai's mercenaries take less than an hour to finish off entirely, and I'm left with an army of blooded hybrids who are all so very hungry for more.

A sharp whistle has the Blessed assemble before me in under a minute. I look across my children with a wide bloody grin. They look back at me with loyal intensity, their faces just as bloody as mine. Bringing my hands together, I speak in a casual tone, secure in the knowledge that they'll hear every word, "Behind us sits Yunkai of Slaver's Bay. Like Astapor with the Unsullied, Yunkai is known for a specific type of slave. You all have satisfied your bloodlust on these heathens, but now it is time to satisfy another kind of lust that many of you have never experienced before now."

I look at them all in their blood drenched armor, "Strip naked my children."

In a few moments a few thousand naked monsters in human skin stand before me. I grin wickedly and turn towards the city, "Now we will ascend the walls and sack this city. Kill any man who dares to hold a weapon against you. Then, once the fighting is done, take whoever strikes your fancy and slake your desires upon them, enthrall them, make them yours."

I glance over my shoulder, "No infighting though, first to grab someone is first to get them. Now, let's go."

Leaving it at that, a tidal wave of monsters moved over the utterly useless walls of Yunkai. A handful of hybrids from back in my world could have taken Yunkai in a few hours time. Thousands of newly made hybrids with an entire life experience of martial training made the conquest of Yunkai into a slaughter. As my Blessed tore their way through the city and destroyed any and all resistance, I made my way directly to Yunkai's Temple of the Graces.

There were guards outside this temple, where there'd been none at Astapor's. They didn't last long, but then there were more guards inside the temple itself and I thought that strange. Still, eventually they were all dead and I approached the center of the temple where I could sense the priestesses were all gathered. When I entered, I found them surrounded by guards as well. The odd thing was the guards had their backs to me and were pointing their weapons at the numerous terrified graces.

As those guards began to react and turned to face me, I wasted no time in ending every last one of them. As the last body dropped unceremoniously to the floor, I turned my attention on the women huddled in a circle, "Which one of you is Yunkai's Green Grace? Step forward."

Out of the center of the crowd moves a figured robed in the green I've learned to associate with Slaver Bay's highest religious station. As the woman comes to a stop before me, I come to realize I can barely even call her a woman, she looks absurdly young compared to the elderly crone I'd met in Astapor. I stare at her even as she falls to her knees before me and then presses her forehead down on the floor in complete subservience. Every other priestess in the room copies her gesture. My brow furrows, "You are the Green Grace of Yunkai?"

She takes this as permission to bring the upper half of her body back up, staying settled on her knees as she answers me, "I am her, Illustrious Messenger. While I am new and inexperienced, I pledge myself to you and the worship of the Almighty One. I am your loving servant."

I stare at her for a long moment, the evidence I'd wanted basically sitting in front of me but I was still skeptical. Well, easy enough to call her bluff. My bemused expression morphs into a lecherous grin as I step closer until the young Green Grace's face is only inches from my confined length, "Prove it darling. Take my cock out and stroke it with your hands as you answer some of my questions."

I'm watching for hesitation, disgust, or panic. Instead I get instant acceptance with just a touch of worry as she does as I say. I can tell where the worry comes a moment later as she inexpertly strokes my cock, clearly having no experience with this. She's worried I won't be happy. How very interesting. Bringing a hand down I pull back the green cowl covering her hair and stroke my hand through her locks, "Now, tell me what happened to your predecessor."

Splitting her attention between the task I'd given her and my question, she answers haltingly, eyes never leaving my hardening prick, "I… she was executed by the Wise Masters. They called it a retirement, but we knew the truth."

My eyebrow rises at that, "Why did they kill her? The same reason you had guards keeping you locked up instead of protecting you I assume?"

She blinks in surprise at my deduction, eyes glancing up at me for a moment before snapping back down to her current work, "Y-yes. She had visions from our gods. She had visions from the Almighty One as well. She wished to tell the people of Yunkai to prepare for your coming, to welcome you and accept your rule and the power of the Almighty One. The Wise Masters saw it as a threat and acted accordingly."

Well now, it seemed the Green Grace of Astapor may have been telling the truth. My hand currently stroking the hair of the girl before me turns into a fist as I guide her head forward, "Good girl, now take it in your mouth."

She does so without complaint, once again doing her very best despite her inexperience here shining through just as much as it had with the hand job. As she sucked me off and the rest of the graces of Yunkai watched, some ashamed, some almost in awe, but all watching intently, I consider what I now know. It would seem that my benefactor is actually stepping off his pedestal to at least partially involve himself in the affairs of this world, now that I've invoked him and started a religion in his name.

It seems he's even being a relatively proactive god about things. Though I figure I know why, even as I take a moment to think back to the old crone's words in Astapor. So my patron wanted me to hurry up and move on did he? I could understand, given the interesting things happening in Westeros. I'd never intended to sit on Essos until we got to canon either, the plan had always been to hit Westeros some time before or during Robert's Rebellion.

So as I began to slowly fuck the willing face of the High Priestess debasing herself before me, I find I have no desire to dally any longer in Slaver's Bay than necessary, especially not just to be contrary. I had made my benefactor into my god. I couldn't go around disobeying the Almighty One now could I? I'd set a bad example to my fast growing number of followers. With a light chuckle, I pull free of the sucking mouth and paint the Green Grace's face with my cum.

I take a moment to admire the facial I've given her as she looks up at me through the gooey mess I've made of her face, clearly looking for approval. I grace her with a smile, "That's a good girl. I'm very pleased with you. The Almighty One is as well, you have started down the path to earning his full blessing. Rise now. The Wise Masters of Yunkai are no more, and you and your flock will be required to lead this city through the upcoming trials, in the name of our god and my servant, the Eternal Master."

She nods eagerly, not even bothering to try to clean herself up, just staring at me in reverence. Well, I enjoyed the hero worship, even if I was no hero. I'd stay in Yunkai for a bit longer and let my Blessed enjoy the toys they all will have chosen by now. Then, on to Mereen.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 276 AC**

 **Slaver's Bay – Mereen**

Unlike Yunkai, Mereen was open to me when I arrived. I'd left half of my Blessed behind, but it didn't truly seem to matter. I was met at the open gates by the heads of Mereen's slaving families, the Great Masters. Leading them was the Green Grace of Mereen, and like her peers, she fell to her knees in the sand before me. With only a moment of hesitation, the slavers followed behind her.

I raised an eyebrow and peered down at them silently. A moment passed and the old woman prostrating herself before me spoke up, "Vali the Messenger, Herald of the Almighty One. Mereen places itself at your and your god's mercy. We beg you to forgive us for our ignorance in worshipping others before the Almighty One for so very long."

Pausing for only a moment, I already know what my answer will be, "Your words move me Galazza Galare. Mereen is forgiven and will be spared the fate of Yunkai."

There is audible relief from the leaders of Mereen. I'd taken a bit longer in Yunkai to let word of the city's fate spread to Mereen. It looked like that had had the impact I'd wanted.

Galazza is not even slightly thrown by me just casually throwing out her name, "Thank you Illustrious Messenger. Mereen is open to you and your companions."

Grinning, I don't mention the fact that there was nowhere in the known world that was already not open to us. Still, there's a correction that needs to be made. I gesture back at my children, "These are the Blessed, be sure to address them as such. They are the Almighty's Chosen and they are to be afforded every respect."

There's more bowing and apologies, "As you say Messenger. Will you enter Mereen and partake in the bounty we have prepared for you now?"

I can't help it, my grin turns a bit sinister at that, "Indeed we will. You may find that our appetites range in a distinctly different direction though."

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 277 AC**

 **Slaver's Bay – Mereen**

The conquest of Slaver's Bay had taken no time at all. What I wished to do next however was an expedition that took much of the rest of the year to plan and prepare for. The Blessed had long since grown beyond their Unsullied origins, and were now filled out with both the slaves and the free peoples of Slaver's Bay. After all, where we were going, no mortal could go.

I looked out upon my enlarged army and smiled. They would march fine without another word from me, but part of me still felt as if something had to be said, "My Children. My Blessed."

The attention of thousands of hybrids focuses solely on me, soaking in what I have to say, "We go now to spread the Almighty One's teachings across Essos. There will be resistance. There will be bloodshed, enough to feed the hunger of each and every last one of you. The continent is filled with those who will deny our god's existence and deny that he is the true god. We shall show them how wrong they are."

My smile takes on an edge to it, "But first, we're going to go where no one has gone for hundreds of years. The Almighty One protects us with his Blessing and sends us forth to recover lost treasure and knowledge."

I pause for a moment, taking in the vibrating excitement of the Blessed before me. They already know where we're headed. At this point I'm really just saying it for dramatic effect. Still, religion is at least ninety percent drama right? Widening my smile, I spread my arms wide and deliver my final line.

"We march for Valyria!"

 **A/N: Next chapter will be an interlude showcasing the happenings of other factions on Westeros and Essos. Most specifically, we'll be touching base with the two factions on Essos who will hear about Vali and begin planning how to deal with him and his new religion. Should be fun.**

 **Please favorite, follow, and review if you have the time! I live for your reviews! =)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Heyo, Interlude Chapter~ Hope everyone enjoys!**

 **Year 277 AC**

 **Essos – Braavos**

The Sealord of Braavos stared at the man before him in silence for so long that the adviser began to twitch in discomfort. Finally, words left the leader's lips, "What did you say?"

Swallowing thickly, the man opposite of him licks his lips and repeats himself, "The House of Black and White stirs my Lord. The Faceless Men are moving."

In response, the Sealord's hands curl around the arms of his chair until his knuckles are almost white with tension. He hisses out angrily, "The Faceless Men are always moving. The House of Black and White may be one of the oldest parts of Braavos, but they are also one of its most independent parts. We do not discuss their doings casually, and we never question their actions. So, what could you possibly have heard that has brought you to me?"

The adviser is speechless for a moment before he gathers himself and speaks in a quiet tone, "The Faceless Men have reconvened. They have a new target."

Seeing the Sealord's face beginning to become stormy with anger, the man quickly continues on, "My Lord it's not what you think! Nobody hired them for this. It's not just another contract. All of them are moving for this target. All of them."

The Sealord returns to staring at the man before him in silence, the budding anger disappearing from his face at this replaced by an emotionless expression. A hand gesture is the only warning the adviser gets, and it's not nearly enough as he has no idea what it means until his head is already leaving his shoulders as the First Sword of Braavos decapitates him from behind.

Braavos' Sealord stares down at the face of a man he'd grown up with, a man he'd trusted with all of his heart and that he still trusted even now. He fully believed every word he'd been told and that was the problem. It was the Sealord's turn to swallow hard as he speaks up again, "Take the head to the House of Black and White. If they will listen, tell them he professed to know information he couldn't have known without having a source within their ranks. Tell them… tell them I ended him before he could reveal anything compromising."

The First Sword bows low as he collects the head, other servants moving in to clean up the body and blood spilled. The Sealord continued sitting, deep in thought on what had just happened and what would happen moving forward. Looking down, he found his hands shaking and once more tightened his grip on the arms of his chair to still them.

He didn't want to know anything about whatever fool had drawn the attention of the House. All men must die, and all men must serve. He wished to continue serving and forbidden knowledge would see his death coming far too early.

He only hoped this offering would be enough to stay the hands of the Faceless Men. His chances looked rather good, after all, he now knew they were focused with a disturbingly single-minded intensity on another target somewhere else.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 277 AC**

 **Essos – Braavos**

In another part of Braavos while the Sealord sits on his throne and regrets being forced to end the life of a friend, a Red Priest wishes he was not so very sober. Ezzelyno has long been Braavos' token Red Priest, the city had never been a place the Lord of Light could truly grab hold of, not like say, Volantis where worship to R'hllor was more common place.

Still, he made enough coin off of performing weddings for the strange whore from the Happy Port. The Sailor's Wife she called herself and was thus called in return. She would bed any man willing to marry her, and wasn't that just strange? There was nothing in the Lord of Light's teachings that spoke against it though and a Red Priest had to make a living somehow.

Now however, that had all changed. Ezzelyno was not one to look into the flames too often. All he saw there was death and despair. He much preferred to look into the bottom of a glass of good drink, and then make himself drunk. It kept him cheerful and in good spirits through his days. Unfortunately, last night at the Tavern, the flames had caught his eye. He usually did such a good job of avoiding looking at the fireplace, but this time he was drawn in before he could stop himself.

Now he knew what was coming and he so dearly wished he didn't. R'hllor had spoken to him in the flames with images and visions of what had already come and what was to come. He knew his purpose now and it was not to go to the leaders of the Free Cities. It was not to warn the people who sat on their thrones of their impending doom. No, his was a place among the masses.

As he climbed atop a hastily built rickety stage in one of Braavos' larger market squares, his blood red robes caught the eye of people passing by, and some even stopped to hear what he had to say. He looked down at the teeming mass of people and was assaulted by visions of them dead, drained of blood.

Clearing his throat, he coughed once and then spoke loudly, "People of Braavos! Demons walk among us! The END comes for those who do not unite under the Lord of Light's banner! Doom marches from the East!"

This Ezzelyno could do. He would leave larger actions to his brothers and sisters with more power and influence. All he had to his name was his voice.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 277 AC**

 **Volantis – The Red Temple of Volantis**

The man who walks down the hall is imposing to say the least. Skin and hair both black as the night, red fire tattoos are spread across his face. His height at six foot is made all the more intimidating by the thick iron staff he carries with him. As he makes his way towards his destination, others move to give him room. All may be Slaves of R'hllor, but not all are equal before the Lord of Light's eyes.

Even still, none of this seems to matter to the dark skinned man as he enters a large circular chamber and kneels before the thin man seated on the floor, facing away from him. This man is both less and more imposing. His head is shaven and his face drawn, skin a pale white all the better to show off the flame tattoo's across his face that put even the other's to shame.

There is silence in the room as the kneeling man awaits the words of his elder. Said elder stares into the fire before him for several minutes in complete silence before suddenly drawing in a deep breath and coming back to himself. Slowly, with purpose, he rises from his seat and turns to look upon the kneeling Priest, "Moqorro. Doom is upon us."

The dark skinned man, now named properly, starts at the words. His composure is broken effectively and he looks up at the other, "High Priest, the Great Other moves?"

High Priest Benerro, known to many as the First Servant of the Lord of Light slowly shakes his head, "No. This evil comes from a different source. There is something new moving in Essos, and the threat may be worse than the Great Other. The Lord of Light has spoken to me in the fires. This darkness comes for us directly. It will arrive in Volantis within the year, possibly even sooner."

Moqorro is at a loss for words for a long moment before rallying himself and beseeching the High Priest, "Send me. I will destroy this evil in the name of R'hllor. Or I will give my life to stall so you may have time to prepare."

Benerro shakes his head, this time much sharper and cuts off the man's fervor with a slash of his hand, "No! Our Lord has shown me what we must do. Your death will have no meaning outside of this city. You would not even reach this evil where it currently festers before death would take you."

Moqorro falls silent as a haunted look passes over Benerro's face. The High Priest closes his eyes and lets out a long breath, before he intones carefully the words given to him by the Red God, "The Messenger comes from the Doom of Valyria. He brings with him an army of undead and a message of chaos, destruction, and ruin."

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 277 AC**

 **Westeros – King's Landing**

King Aerys Targaryen the Second of His Name sat upon the Iron Throne and listened to the words of those who would pay lip service to him and beg him for favors. Of course, it was all an act wasn't it? He couldn't help the bitterness that welled up within him at the thought. He was the Blood of the Dragon, the latest in a long line of Targaryens that had ruled Westeros for nearly three hundred years! He was King of the Seven Kingdoms!

Yet, he knew what they said behind his back. They said Tywin Lannister, his ever ambitious Hand, was the true power behind the Throne. Tywin Lannister was the one who people went to when they wanted things done. Lip service were indeed the right words for it, given that these days it seemed like he never dealt with any sort of real problem anymore. All such matters went through Tywin, all such matters were handled by Tywin.

He'd tried to reassert himself many times. A decade earlier, he'd wanted to bring the Iron Bank to its knees after it had the audacity to demand payment for the Iron Throne's debts from him. Him, the King of Westeros! Hah, he would have laid siege to the Free City of Braavos and brought it under the rightful rule of the Iron Throne if not for the Lord Paramount he'd allowed to be his Hand. Once again Tywin's interference and influence had made itself known, as he made peace with the Iron Bank.

Tywin Lannister's reputation had grown and Aerys had been left to simmer and fume. They thought they got away with the whispers behind his back. They thought he didn't know what they said. Oh but he knew, he knew…

As things continued as they usually did, routine an ever present part of royalty's daily life, something different finally happened. Aerys afforded more attention than usual, as the Red Priest, Thoros of Myr, stepped forward upon being called. A small swell of anger rose in the Targaryen Monarch, because the last time the Red Priest had come before him, Aerys had been irritated by his constant talk of throwing down false gods, and had had him permanently expelled from the Throne Room.

Still, if the man was willing to risk the King's wrath now by presenting himself where he was not wanted, Aerys would listen to what he had to say, if only to break up the monotony of the day. Aerys gestures expressively with his hand for Thoros to speak, and the man does.

"Your Majesty, I bring dire news from the East. Darkness comes your highness and it moves to swallow Essos whole. Then, it will come here."

Is that it? Aerys stares at the Red Priest in silence for a long enough time to make it uncomfortable, properly considering whether he should entertain this stupidity by asking the obvious question, or if he should just have the man flogged for his impudence. The former eventually wins out, "And what, would you have the Iron Throne do about this… darkness?"

Thoros looks surprised for a moment, as if he's shocked that he's even being listened to. He quickly collects himself and answers, "In the flames, I saw what must be done, there are ways we can prepare for the evil that comes. The Seven Kingdoms must look to the Lord of Light for salvati-"

Aerys has heard enough and cuts the Red Priest off with a sharp gesture and a hissed, "Quiet! It seems you do not learn from the past. Guards, seize this man and remove him from my presence. He must be punished for his insolence. Twenty lashings will hopefully still that tongue of his."

Thoros looks dismayed but also resigned as he is grabbed by guards who begin to drag him from the Hall. That doesn't stop him from yelling out as he goes, "Your Majesty, you must listen to me! Doom comes for us all! Doom comes from Valyria!"

That gets the King's attention as he stands abruptly from the Iron Throne and calls to the guards, "Wait!"

They stop and the room is silence for a moment in the face of Aerys' clear anger. Thoros' face quickly pales at the realization that his last words did little to help his case. Eventually the King speaks through gritted teeth, "A hundred lashings."

Then, Thoros is dragged from the room and Aerys settles back down onto the Iron Throne, careful to avoid the many sharp edges. He puts on a calm face and waves off concern from Tywin and his Small Council. How dare that fool of a priest try to manipulate him, the King. Aerys Targaryen was no fool and would not be made to dance to another's tune. He was the King of the Seven Kingdoms.

At that thought he found his back straightening as the next man to speak stepped forward. The messenger come from House Darklyn of Duskendale, and Aerys puts the Red Priest out of his mind as he focuses on what the man has to say. Hopefully it would be something relatively pleasant so he could calm down.

But no, of course it wasn't. Instead he grew more and more enraged at the audacity of the Lord of Duskendale. How dare he decline to pay the taxes every Lord in the Seven Kingdoms were to pay. How dare he think himself above the laws of the Seven Kingdoms that Aerys' ancestors had put in place. He thumbed his nose at the Iron Throne and Aerys himself with this insult!

Tywin was making some noise, probably talking about how he would deal with this upstart as Hand to the King, when Aerys found himself rising from his throne for the second time, just as angry as the first, "No!"

The entire court shuts down at that as everyone looks to the King, and he spares a moment to enjoy the fact that at the very least, they still listen. Taking a deep breath, he schools his tone into something a bit more regal, a bit more kingly, "No. I will go to Duskendale and handle this myself. The immediate presence of a Targaryen King will squash all thoughts of rebellion, as it always has."

Tywin of course has to speak up, "My King, I do not bel-"

Aerys snarls and cuts him off, "Silence! You forget yourself Lord Hand. You are my Hand, not my Mind. You do not think for me, you do not decide anything for me. I will go to Duskendale and I will end this foolish defiance. I will not hear another word of dissent."

His Hand is wise enough to know when to back down, and he remains silent as he bows at the waist and allows Aerys to begin throwing out orders to prepare for his departure. This was something Aerys knew he had to do. Much more important than the silly ramblings of that Red Priest. His subjects had to know that Aerys Targaryen the Second of His Name was their one true King and not a puppet for some jumped up Lords.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 277 AC**

 **Essos – Asshai**

There is a temple in the city of Asshai, where followers of the Red God go to worship. Those who dedicate themselves to the Lord of Light live in the temple full time. And then there are the few, those special enough to hold faith so strong in their breast that commune with R'hllor comes easy and often to them. There is a room for these most devout of R'hllor's followers.

In that room, a stunningly beautiful woman with flowing red hair looks deep into the flames, and those flames look back. Perfectly sculpted lips slowly spread into a wide smile as her God shows her the way forward. Her eyes reflect the dancing flames and the shadows that they create. From those same lips come only two words, spoken in a breathless tone and sounding almost like a moan to a lover.

"Azor Ahai."

 **A/N: So let me know what you think, questions, comments, concerns! I appreciate every review that I receive, it means a lot to know people are reading and enjoying my story. And if you aren't enjoying it, let me know why so I can try and fix it in future chapters, or at the very least explain my reasoning!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So not gonna lie, dunno where a majority of this chapter came from lol. Pretty sure I just went AU on this bitch in what I made the Doom of Valyria actually be. It's probably not what GRRM had in mind. That said, I still hope you enjoy it!**

 **Year 277 AC**

 **Essos – Oros**

The journey from Mereen to Oros took time but was not exactly difficult or altogether noteworthy. To be fair though, Oros itself was not at all noteworthy either. From what I knew and what I'd been told, Oros went down in the history books as one of the more rich and glorious cities under the control of the Valyrian Freehold. Which to be fair, made plenty of sense given its proximity to Valyria itself.

However, the Doom had done its damage and taken a toll that Oros never recovered from, leaving behind looted ruins and not an ounce of worth. The scavengers and average human trash still inhabiting the city's ruins certainly weren't worth much beyond the blood still flowing through their veins. Still, it made for an excellent place to set up the thousands of Blessed I'd brought with me from Slaver's Bay.

Within weeks, Oros was bustling and parts of it were even starting to look livable as the humans were rounded up and penned in as a sustainable food source for the foreseeable future. I gave orders to bring any interesting or enterprising mortals before me for a more personal judgment, but as time passed and the city fell entirely under our control, nobody of value was discovered. It would seem that interesting and enterprising humans did not stay in Oros. Given the general climate and atmosphere, I understood entirely just why that was so.

Oros sat on the north edge of the Smoking Sea, and said body of water very much earned its name with the amount of toxic winds that swept in from it on the daily. Of course, the smoke and ash filled winds was the least of the Smoking Sea's lovely defining traits. My Blessed had long since learned to run across water, so I sent a small group of five just to see if they could make it to the other side without us needing ships.

They returned only an hour later, only four in number, bringing the reason why with them. One carried the headless body of their fifth member, while the other three dragged between them the body of a dead kraken the size of a minivan. As the beast was lugged up onto the shore, the leader of the group made his way to me using hybrid speed before falling to a knee.

I stare for a long moment before speaking.

"Well? What happened?"

The response comes instantly.

"We allowed ourselves to become distracted as we moved. Talking, play splashing one another with water… I believe that is what attracted the creature. We weren't expecting danger, the creature's first strike removed Talmahn's head. We struck back immediately and made short work of the creature, but Talmahn was already gone."

The boy in front of me swallows thickly before continuing.

"I accept full responsibility for this Messenger. It was my fault this happened and I apologize for my failure before both you and the Almighty One."

I stare down at the young man before me even as he more than likely readies himself for death. This is no Unsullied, this is a boy that in another world, may have become a Son of the Harpy. He was a noble of Mereen, but he was also a fourth son and thus expendable. Mereen had been allowed to remain largely autonomous, the only changes being that the Great Masters now answered to the Eternal Master of Slaver's Bay and me as well, and the city itself worshipped the Almighty One alone and no other god.

Thus, joining my Blessed had become the thing to do for a great many of the young free men of Mereen, the sons of the Great Masters that would most likely never inherit all that their fathers held because of an older brother. It had worked for me, I had wanted a large force to make the excavation of Valyria both easier and faster, and I'd gotten it. The sire bond enforced loyalty in young Mereenese Nobles just as well as it did in Unsullied, so there was no problem there.

Of course, that same sire bond was not infallible, and while the army I'd built out of Slaver's Bay's young adults had grown up under the expectation of painful punishment, it was inevitable that they would grow to resent me if I treated them the same way. So with a smile on my face, I reach down and grab the young hybrid by his shoulders, pulling him to his feet and kissing his forehead.

"You are forgiven child. The Almighty One's mercy allows for second chances. Do you seek repentance? Absolution?"

He stares at me with wide eyes and nods emphatically before hissing out.

"Yes. Yes! Tell me what to do Messenger! Allow me to prove my devotion to you and the Almighty One!"

My smile only grows at his drive, even as I turn my next words to the audience of thousands of hybrids that have gathered around us.

"The Smoking Sea sits between us and our final destination! The creatures within it would seek to impede our progress, to keep us from our divine work!"

Placing my hand on the shoulder of my newest General, I pull his name up from the recesses of my perfect memory.

"Mazdhan zo Loraq will lead a thousand Blessed into the Smoking Sea as penance for his transgression, and the path to Valyria will be made open to us. Five hundred Kraken corpses will see him absolved of his sins!"

My Blessed are driven by many things, but bloodlust is one of the few that comes even close to their drive to please me. I'm not surprised by the cheer that rises through the crowd, nor the clamor as hybrids begin pushing forward towards Hizdahr to gain a place within his new command. I just fell back, watching in amusement. Expendable, that was how I saw this army I'd put together.

I could always make more hybrids and I imagined I could conquer Planetos by myself if I truly wanted to. The Blessed would just make it easier, but that didn't change the fact that I didn't really need them. An army of immortal monsters that most would sacrifice anything to join or control, a gift of power and eternal life that so many would sell their souls for, and all I saw was expendable foot soldiers.

Even as Mazdhan began to gather up his fellows born of Mereen first, I moved away to locate a female hybrid to slake a very different thirst on. At the same time, my Unsullied hung back as well, knowing that their place was not on the front lines. They were far more important than the common hybrids after all, and that was something I'd drilled into them before we'd ever arrived in Mereen, overriding the low sense of self-worth they'd been raised with.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 277 AC**

 **Essos – Tyria**

Mazdhan did more than absolve himself, by the end of the week the northern coast of the Smoking Sea was covered in Kraken corpses and the area of sea between Oros and Tyria was devoid of life. So, with an ease that only immortal monsters could command, I and my Blessed made our way across the Smoking Sea and found ourselves in Tyria.

The conditions south of the Smoking Sea were worse than they'd been in Oros, the air becoming a bit more inhospitable even as we exited the smoke that gave the Smoking Sea its name. It would have most definitely been a problem for humans, but surprisingly I didn't think it'd be an insurmountable one. I wondered if it was the Krakens alone that had managed to hold curious souls at bay for so long, but that theory was debunked when I saw what sat in Tyria's expansive ruined harbor.

A fleet of golden ships, mostly sunk but still visible, sat in the large harbor. The great fleet that Tommen II Lannister, King of the Rock, had sailed to Valyria with lay before us. He'd actually made it this far. But then, why had he never returned? As my people moved amongst the shipwrecks and the city itself, we found skeletal remains, but not nearly enough of them to account for the crews of the number of ships in the harbor.

Tyria was largely deserted and there was nothing special to loot here, almost as if someone else had already been through and taken everything of value. Perhaps if I was less arrogant, I'd have felt a bit of trepidation at the circumstances we'd found. You try living over four thousand years without getting a bit arrogant. So, without much ado, I ordered my Army of Blessed onward to Valyria itself. What could possibly go wrong?

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 277 AC**

 **Essos – Valyria**

Fire Zombies. It turns out, fire zombies are what could go wrong. That is what awaited us as we approached the crown jewel of the Valyrian Freehold. The first sign something is amiss is the bodies. There shouldn't be bodies here right? At best they should be skeletal by now, but really it's been hundreds of years! The second sign comes rather quickly after a few of those bodies get kicked over onto their backs by my Blessed to better examine them.

Dead bodies come to life as eye sockets fill with smoldering embers. A low keen sounds through the air and only grows in tempo as the entire ruined city of Valyria begins to light up in front of us. The Doom of Valyria awakens and rises before me and I have only a moment to wonder just what the fuck the Valyrians had been playing at before they destroyed themselves. Then, I'm fighting as the fire zombies fall upon us.

The fucking fire zombies are strong and fast, and they have fucking fire magic too because why not? This is not going to be the cakewalk I expected. My children are notoriously weak to fire and magical fire is even more concerning. Hell, I'm practically immune to normal fire, but even my skin blisters for moments before healing as the magical flames of a fire zombie wash over me.

The fighting grows fiercer and harder even as I urge my people forward, demanding of them everything they had, sometimes quite literally as hybrids began to fall before something I never expected to find on this damn world. That isn't when I begin to grow worried though. No, that comes when a fire zombie manages to grab hold of one of my hybrids by the skull and I watch as flames pour from its eyes and mouth and into the eyes and mouth of my child.

A moment later the creatures we're fighting have a new comrade and I move over to the former hybrid instantly, dismembering it in the space of a second, eyes wide as I feel something I haven't felt in a long time. Fear.

This… this could become a problem.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Somewhere "Else"**

"Oh? Having a bit of trouble my 'Messenger'? You really should have expected something magical to be the cause of the ruin of an empire that bred dragons. Really now."

"…"

"Still, I suppose you've done well as my 'Messenger'. Perhaps you've earned a boon. I'm not going to just solve the situation for you though. But eh, I'll help you along a bit so you can solve it for yourself."

 **XxScenebreakxX**

In a moment's time, I can feel the change. My budding fear fades as I am filled with a certainty that I can end this in a way that will leave my side of this unique conflict victorious. It requires me to abandon this fight though and head deeper into the city. I can sense where I must go, the center of the city is where my true enemy lies.

I abandon my Blessed in an instant, flashing by the horde of fire zombies that make ineffectual attempts to stop me as I go directly to the source of all of this. The center of the city is dominated by a large temple-like building and I waste no time making my way inside, not even stopping as I take the head off a fire zombie in my way.

Inside, I find a large empty space, easily the size of a football field. Much of the place is shrouded in darkness so thick even I can't see into it. In the center sits an orb as large around as my torso, full of orange-white energy and in front of it stood one more fire zombie. This one was different, if only because he wore a crown and a red cloak even as he raised a Valyrian Steel sword in my direction.

"Interloper. We are Legion. You will be subsumed."

I blink at that owlishly for a long moment even as I stride forward with purpose, my cocky mocking response already on my lips.

"Is that so Tommen Lannister? I would certainly love to see you try."

"You do not comprehend interloper. The mortal king before you is nothing more than our mouthpiece. You speak to Legion, we are everywhere. You face more than one mortal trespasser."

At those words the darkness around me lights up as empty eye sockets fill with fire. I'm not faced with Valyrian humans though. There are no dragon lords or mystics waiting for me in the shadows. No, I can only look at the floors, the walls, and up at the ceiling, as an uncountable number of reanimated dragons are revealed to me. I can't help reveling at the sight for a long moment. After all, it's the first time I've ever seen dragons in the flesh in four thousand years of existence. I'm allowed to be impressed.

"Well now, that's just not playing fair."

My voice is faint and 'Legion' must hear something in it, because I swear he actively sounds smug as he replies.

"Now you see, resistance is futile. You will be subsumed. You will join the collective. Submit to me now, join with me willingly. Your body is perfection and will be able to hold the majority of my true essence. Take hold of the orb and allow me to flow into you, and I will use you as my Avatar as I consume the rest of this world."

I can't help the small smirk that grows on my face at that, even as I step forward slowly, "Oh? Well now, it would seem I have no choice. Consuming the world sounds fun."

I step forward again and the fiery corpse of Tommen II Lannister lowers Brightroar and steps aside even as I come to the orb of barely contained energy sitting in the center of the room. This was what had killed Valyria, the imbeciles dabbling in things they did not understand had apparently set off the equivalent of a magical nuke and destroyed the entire peninsula. Unfortunately for the being they created as a result, it found itself trapped without a host able to contain its core.

Until now. As I step up to the large orb I smile down at it, my hands drifting up until they're ever so slightly out of reach of the sides of the orb.

"Yes! Make contact and we will become one! We will leave this place and take flight upon the backs of our dragons! The world will tremble before the Doom made manifest!"

I let out a soft chuckle and the voice quiets immediately even as I respond.

"It sounds very nice. I've never ridden on a dragon before. I still hope to do so at some point in my time on this world. Unfortunately, there's a problem."

My hands move suddenly as I take hold of the orb and the flow of power immediately begans. I continue to speak anyways, even as I feel my eyes burn away along with the majority of my insides. My voice sounds otherworldly as I talk, shouting over the roar of the zombie dragons around me.

"I am a conduit for another god entirely! The Almighty One's power flows through me! His blood flows through me! You are nothing before him! You are nothing to him! You are simply, nothing! I am the Messenger of the Most Powerful Being to ever grace this world with his presence!"

A moment later the orb is empty, nothing but a glass container, albeit probably a heavily enchanted one. My eyes regrow and my body heals as every reanimated corpse around me falls to the floor, including the dragons on the ceiling. Tommen II Lannister's body falls beside me as Brightroar clatters from his fully lifeless fingers.

I can't help myself, I'm grinning savagely even as darkness falls around me with the absence of the burning energy in the orb and its reanimated army.

"Message delivered."

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Somewhere "Else"**

"Oh now aren't you adorable."

"We are Legion! You will be subsumed into the collective!"

"How cute, you're like a yapping Chihuahua. Bark for me now, bark!"

"We are the Doom of Valyria! Tremble before us!"

"Ahahahaha, I don't know if I'll ever get tired of this."

 **XxScenebreakxX**

From there things calmed down. I'd lost a good portion of my Blessed to the fire zombies when I'd abandoned them to make a beeline for the center of the city. Most had managed to keep themselves alive and fall back on the training I'd been putting them through during our travel, but from what I could see once I got everyone back together, an approximate thirty percent of my immortal monsters were gone. To think, I'd just been calling them expendable.

Luckily, things after the welcome we received were wildly anti-climactic. There were plenty of corpses littering the city, both dragon and human, but they gave us no more trouble, and the dragons in particular were useful for the amount of souvenirs and reagents that could be acquired from them. Valyria was ours and unlike Oros and Tyria, it had not been looted.

In fact, much of the loot King Tommen II Lannister must have acquired in Tyria was here where he'd apparently marched the entirety of his forces. I had to wonder why he hadn't sent anyone back after Tyria, I remembered reading about the promises he made to the Triarchs of Volantis. In fact, that memory had helped me decide my next course. Since the King of the Rock had been so kind as to leave me with carts laden in Valyrian steel of all shapes and sizes, I sent a contigent of my Blessed back across the Smoking Sea with as much of that Valyrian steel as they could reasonably carry.

They were to go to Volantis and spread word of the Almighty One, as well as inject wares made of Valyrian Steel that had not seen human hands for hundreds of years into the Volantis Marketplace. In terms of the magical steel created through dragon fire combined with further unknown means, Valyria was a treasure trove of the metal, and weaponry of the substance in particular was in abundance.

It also had other treasures awaiting us. In particular, a number of petrified dragon eggs were uncovered that honestly made the three Daenerys had been gifted with look like chump change. They were a decent find, and I was happy enough to have so many Valyrian Steel weapons that I could arm every last member of my Blessed with their own personal choices of armament. Most had a valyrian steel dagger, with the main weapon being what many decided to branch out on.

The real find though came two weeks in, when an underground bunker of some sorts was found with intact scrolls and tomes. Not in the city of Valyria itself of course, as the Doom had destroyed all materials that didn't have some sort of strength to them to allow them to endure the initial magical blast that had killed most of Valyria's people, but outside of the city limits far south, there was a fortress that was in much better shape. In its depths, we found the writings of the long dead Valyrian Empire.

So far it was just histories and other mostly useless information, though more than likely priceless to the right type of person. What I wanted to find was actual magic, such as the method behind creating Valyrian Steel, or the mystical research that had led the Valyrians to the magical nuke that had devastated their peninsula.

Of course, what I wanted would have to be put on hold, for only a week after that discovery, my children who I'd sent to Volantis returned. That is to say, a handful of the hundred I'd sent ahead had returned and they came with shocking injuries. I could only stare at the burns on them that refused to heal, at the cauterized stumps where some had lost entire limbs.

I move forward and instinctively bite into my wrist before feeding the first child to come before me my blood. His injuries heal sluggishly, but they do heal, and I can see that the hand he's lost is already beginning to return. Moving on, I feed more of my blood to the other survivors before letting out a snarl and demanding answers.

"What happened?!"

The first I healed is the one that speaks, eyes wide and tone full of fear that made me both angry and queasy. The only thing my Blessed should ever fear is me!

"T-the Triarchs welcomed us with open arms as you said they would. In the night they came with fire and flame. The Triarchs died along with most of our comrades. W-we alone escaped so you would know not to walk into a trap M-messenger!"

My teeth grit together and my fists clench even as I ask the question I already suspect I know the answer to.

"Who? Who came for you?"

The boy just stares at me, still looking a bit lost, his second near glance with death in such a short time clearly having an impact on him. He and his comrades were supposed to live forever after all.

"Priests in Red. Servants of the Lord of Light."

In that moment, I find there's only one real response to this. I'm going to drown Volantis in blood.

 **A/N: So yeah, originally Valyria was going to be rather empty and wastelandy. Lots of goodies like Valyrian Steel and Dragon Eggs, but overall I was going to call it boring and move on to Volantis and the small plot I have planned for it in this chapter. Instead, Volantis got shunted to the end and the fucking Doom of Valyria turned out to be a firey hivemind with fire zombies. Yeah.**

 **Did I go too far here? Let me know what you think of this chapter please, it's definitely one of my more outrageous ideas I think! Whether you liked it, loved it, hated it, I want to know!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey look a wild new chapter has appeared! Kind of off my usual schedule, but didn't feel like waiting till noon tomorrow to post this, when I finished it at 4 pm today. So here it is, hope you enjoy!**

 **Year 278 AC**

 **Essos – Valyria**

As much as I may have wanted to take the entirety of my remaining Blessed and march on Volantis immediately after learning what had happened, such an action was neither intelligent nor altogether feasible to my long term goals. Especially after I got the full story from the survivors and found out that the last thing they saw as they fled from Volantis into the night were large walls of fire rising in a circular fashion around the city.

So fine, it sounded like Volantis would sit tight for us to eventually take care of. In the meantime, the Valyrian Peninsula was already beginning to transform. The air was clearing up and the perpetual red sky was dispersing. The Doom of Valyria had taken its toll, but with an army of immortal monsters who never tired, the restoration of the once glorious empire was going at a much faster pace than it would have with normal humans.

Of course, the normal humans started showing up a few months in as well, as I'd sent couriers to both Slaver's Bay and the Summer Isles immediately after we'd dealt with the fire zombies and settled in. Thousands trickled in from Slaver's Bay before the fleet of Swan Ships from the Summer Isles appeared on the southern shore of the peninsula.

I was there to greet those ships, a wide smile on my face as they docked in the harbor I'd prioritized rebuilding above all else. Before they were even fully anchored a blur jumped off of the prow of the lead ship, landing lightly on the docks before leaping forward to fly into my arms, Chatana's own arms and legs wrapping around my body as I let out a laugh, her lips finding mine and claiming them a moment later.

Returning the needy kiss is more instinct than anything else and in fact quite the pleasure. Neither of us have a need for air, so there's no eventual pulling apart to catch our breath. Instead we get deeper into it as Chatana runs her hands over my back and rubs her crotch against mine suggestively. I grin into her mouth even as our tongues continue to wrestle, flashing us over to a nearby crate, where I spin her around and bend her over. She catches herself with her hands, looking back at me with half-lidded eyes and her tongue trailing over her lips in a clear invitation.

I respond by grabbing her pants and tearing them down the middle and straight off her dark skinned perfectly sculpted body. She lets out a moan even as my hands grope her naked ass. Wasting no more time, I pull my hard cock out of its tight confines and line up, a moment later plunging into her from behind as she lets out a cry of pleasure.

Around us, things continue as usual with ships offloading both people and supplies. As I plowed my Ravia from behind, Summer Islanders passed us by without anything more than an appreciative glance, even as the crate under us began to break under the force I was putting into my pounding, Chatana's fingers clawing large gouges in the wood as well as she howled happily.

My Blessed didn't make much note of our frenzied fucking either, much more used to sex of all sorts by this point. After all, a majority of my female Blessed were bed slaves from Yunkai that my Unsullied had chosen for themselves during the sack. Eventually the crate beneath us broke entirely, but I just grabbed Chatana by her shoulders and held her up as I continued to thrust into her.

A bit later I felt my release approaching, and moments before my release, Chatana blurred out from under me to kneel at my feet, her mouth open and tongue out as her hands replaced her hot cunt and she proceeded to take my cum all over her face and in her mouth. Once I was done she used her fingers to collect all she could and lick it up right before me, smiling up at me coyly.

I just grin back down at her, taking her chin in my hand, "My darling Ravia, how I have missed you."

She flushes in pleasure, "As I missed you Master. I was ecstatic when you called for me."

Running a hand through her hair possessively, my grin softens into an affectionate smile, "I have need of you, my Ravia. Valyria is ours and it's time to bring back the glory that originally made it the envy of the world. You're going to help me with that."

Chatana looks up at me with worshipful eyes and presses her head into my petting hand, "Of course. Anything, master."

Chuckling, I pull her to her feet and we walk together into the coastal town I've had constructed, Chatana not caring one bit about her exposed lower half.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 278 AC**

 **Essos – Volantis**

Chatana and Quhuru are who I leave in charge of Valyria's restoration as everything settles. Meanwhile, with things finally secure, I turn my eyes to Volantis and with thousands of my Blessed at my back, I set out to fulfill the silent promise I'd made when the servants of the Red God first dared to cross me and hurt what was mine.

Now I and my army stand before the outskirts of Volantis, only a dozen yards or so from the roaring wall of flames. I stare into the blaze unflinchingly even as my Blessed work through a dozen different methods to try and put out part of the magical flame wall. None worked, but then I hadn't expected any of them to in the first place.

No, I knew what I had to do. The Voice was very clear about that these days. The whispers, they'd begun back in Valyria when I'd dealt with the Doom of Valyria so decisively and opened up myself as a conduit to the version of me I'd been passing off as the Almighty One in this world. Only, it had been even before that had it not? After all, I hadn't even known I could be a conduit until that moment at Valyria's gates. That must have been when the whispers started.

Speaking of the "Almighty One" I couldn't help but believe that I had truly given him agency in this world. He was no longer an observer, and I was no longer just his entertainment. I had inadvertently drawn him into this game of Gods and Kings, of Blood and Fire… I didn't know what that meant yet, but as I'd mentioned before, I knew what to do here.

My thoughts are interrupted by one of the Blessed approaching me cautiously, "Messenger… everything we've tried has failed. The flames seem to be impenetrable."

I smile grimly at that, "Yes, it would seem the only way to bring it down would be from the inside. It is a trap."

That gets a confused blink, "M-messenger? I do not understand, it has badly burned and nearly incinerated those of us who have gotten too close. How can it be a trap, if no one can spring it?"

Instead of giving a verbal response, I walk towards the blazing flames. A hush falls over the Blessed around me as I make my way passed those closer to the fires. Until now, I had stayed back and I was forced to admit to myself at least that it was perhaps just a bit because of a fear of what the magical fire could do to me. I could no longer ignore the whispers turned shouts in the back of my mind though.

The path forward was clear, and as I stepped right up to the flames themselves, my clothes immediately started smoking as sparks struck them, but my skin remained unharmed, not even turning slightly red next to the unbelievable heat. After a long moment, I plunge my arm straight into the flames much to the shock of my followers. When I withdraw that same arm to show not an inch of damage done to it, I'm sure that I cement my place with my followers even further through sheer awe experienced by seeing the act.

Turning back to my Blessed, I find wide eyes and mouths open agape at what I've just done. I just smile and raise my voice so that every last one hears me over the crackles of the flames behind me, "I will enter and destroy the source of these infernal blazes. When the flames die out, you will follow and Volantis will fall. Kill every mortal robed in red, do what you will with those not. Either way, Volantis will drown in blood this evening. The First Daughter dies on this day."

The young hybrid that'd approached me before rushes to the front of his fellows at this point, calling out, "B-but M-messenger! Please! You said it was a trap yourself! You should not go alone!"

My smile takes a sinister edge to it as I reply, my eyes on the boy, but my words reaching every set of ears around me, "Do not fear my child. When you know a trap is a trap, it ceases being one. Instead, it becomes a challenge. I've always been good with crushing challenges."

I clear my throat and call out one final statement before plunging into the flames behind me, "The Almighty One sends me forward! I can no more deny the path he lays before now than I could when I was first sent to guide you out of the darkness!"

 **XxScenebreakxX**

As I come out of the other side of the flame wall, only four thousand years of using my incredible speed to react instead of just to act like my peers keeps my head on my shoulders as I duck under the swing of a Valyrian Steel Sword lit with flame. My own sword, made of the same magical metal, clears its sheathe and removes the legs of the fool who sought to behead me in one smooth motion, after which I straighten up to stare at the other red robed swordsmen waiting for me even as my own clothes finish turning to ash and falling off my now naked body.

Around twenty to thirty men stand before me, every single one armed with a flaming Valyrian Steel weapon I can only assume they took off the first group of Blessed I'd sent to Volantis. Given the amount of Valyrian Steel I'd sent with them, there were probably hundreds of monks armed with the metal in the city that sat before me.

Grinning, I raise my own blade and salute those before me, "I feel I should apologize. I am slightly out of practice with the sword. It has been a century or so since I last picked one up. When we fight, my strikes will likely not be instantly lethal. You will all die slowly and in considerable pain."

"I say this, because I will only offer you mercy once. Set down your weapons and kneel before me and I will spare you that pain."

No one takes me up on my offer, but I do notice a certain interesting fact. Roughly half of the men are still entirely calm. These men have their eyes focused not on my face, but on my hands, my sword, and my feet. The other half are the ones who have been angered by my words, drawn to stare into my eyes with clear defiance. My grin morphs into something far more sinister as I speak lowly to my audience before they can finally make a move.

"Turn to your left and kill the man you find there."

Instant chaos as my mass compulsion takes half of the swordsmen and turns them on their fellows in a bloody slaughter. I don't sit back, sliding into the fighting and cutting down man after man without care for those I'd compelled. At the end of it, I'd made good on my promise, every Servant of R'hllor lay in the sand writhing in pain from the eventually fatal blow I'd dealt them.

Staring up at the normal walls of Volantis, locked up quite tightly of course, I spread my arms wide and call out, "Is this all you have for me?! Is this it?!"

My speed gets me out of range of the burning boulder they fire at my previous location with surprising accuracy. I raise an eyebrow as the fiery orange boulder shifts. The second eyebrow goes up as the boulder uncurls and slowly rises to its full height.

"Bullshit."

Before me stands something startlingly similar to a past memory from before even my rebirth into this current body. A memory of a game I played for hundreds of hours over the course of several years in a time when I was a largely worthless waste of space. There's no mistaking this though. While it's not the usual fel green color, there is an Infernal from World of Warcraft standing in front of me.

"What the actual fuck?"

I don't get to sound bewildered any longer than that though, as the Infernal cries out angrily and begins stomping towards me. Sneering in response, I slide behind it easily and shove my blade between its rock-like legs before using those same rock-like legs to propel myself up, dragging the magically treated steel up through molten rock and cutting the Infernal in half vertically.

As I come out the top of its head, it lets out another cry, this one much weaker, and then crumbles into inanimate rock. Not exactly much of a challenge despite my initial surprise at its appearance. Of course, that's when more flaming boulders fall from the sky and begin to hit the ground around me. I suppose they sought to tire me, or wear me out, or even just weaken and wound me before I could reach their inner most havens.

But I've never been one to play to another's tempo. Once again my speed plays a part in allowing me to change the rules of the deadly game the whole of Volantis is trying to play with me. As I dash away from the raining boulders and begin to scale the walls of Volantis too fast for any of the defenders waiting atop those walls to react, I am only peripherally aware that the infernals I'm leaving behind are moving through the flame walls towards my Blessed in the absence of any other living creatures to kill.

I am less than concerned, if any of my Blessed fall to the fiery rock creatures, they did not deserve immortality anyways. No, my attention is focused solely on the path ahead as I dash deeper into the city towards the Temple of the Lord of Light. It is a large monolith, more than likely the biggest structure in Volantis outside the Black Wall, and I know that it is where I will find what I seek.

As I approach the temple plaza, I find myself stopping at its entrance to take in the sight before me. This certainly explains the lack of resistance I've faced in the rest of the city, as a few hundred Red Priests stand before me. As one, they pull free their stolen Valyrian Steel swords and with a single spark, light their blades ablaze.

"Is this it? The sum total of your resistance? I suppose I shouldn't have expected much more from slaves."

A dark skinned man carrying a flaming staff instead of a sword snarls from the front of the crowd facing me. Raising his staff into the air, I'm treated to a delightful sight as in response hundreds of archers appear on the roofs and from the windows of the buildings surrounding the plaza. One archer gets over excited and lets loose early. I catch the arrow with my free hand and break the shaft, letting it drop to the ground as I stare at the clear leader of these enemy forces.

He stares back, any hesitation or fear at my casual display hidden very well. He brings his staff down and slams the butt of the iron pole into the ground. Every archer lets loose now and a thousand arrows fly towards me from nearly every direction. Except for the one in front of me, where a sea of flaming swords awaits me. So, I move forward as I always have, never hesitating, never looking back.

Slaves of R'hllor die at my hand. Servants of the Lord of Light fall to the ground screaming in pain as I relieve them of hands and feet, arms and legs. Valyrian Steel swords fall to the ground and the flames running along their length gutter out as man after man falls before my immortality, before my monstrous speed and strength.

Even more fall to the archers trying to shoot me, showing just how little trained these fools truly are. These are not warriors. These are not soldiers. These are monks and priests and they are ill prepared for a war with me. When more than half of the swordsmen are dead, I flash over to the steps leading up to the temple entrance. Waiting only a moment for the archers to reorient, I speak out.

"Stop."

A thousand men freeze up as my compulsion takes effect. A slow smile spreads across my face. After all, while every swordsman I'd just cut down had the discipline to avoid my eyes, somehow having the knowledge of that particular ability of mine, the archers who were trying to kill me could not avoid looking at me down the sights of their bow. They clearly did not expect me to have the range to take hold of all of them. Just one of their many mistakes.

"Take your arrows and swallow them arrowhead first."

As a thousand people take what's left in their quivers and begin to feed the sharp ends down their throats, killing themselves, I flick the blood from the end of my blade and look down at what's left of their melee forces. A handful or two of the hundreds that they started with are left by now. Most of the survivors are looking entirely demoralized, their flaming blades hanging from lax grips.

I don't even have to use compulsion when I call out, "Kneel." And watch red robed men fall to their knees before me. The only one who does not is the man with the iron staff, the one who'd been commanding them. He snarls at seeing his fellows submit, tightening his grip on his weapon and stepping towards me clearly prepared to continue fighting.

The fighting is over though, I've already decided that. Blurring forward, I tear the pole from his hands and punch him squarely in the throat, sending him to the ground choking. He can't concentrate anymore, so when I kneel before him and lock eyes with his, he's not able to move his wide eyes away, "You will stop resisting me. You will feel no more pain."

Both commands take effect and he visibly calms down as his eyes blank out a bit and he just kneels there waiting for more orders. I just smile, "Lead me to the source of your magical flame walls my new friend."

He rises slowly and leads me into the temple. The priests in the temple have clearly been watching the battle, because as we walk along long hallways, we see not a single soul. They are all hiding from me, amusingly enough. My newest thrall leads me to a large circular room, in which several priests are chanting and a man is in the process of sacrificing a young child atop an altar in the center.

The man, who I can only assume is the High Priest Benerro breaks off from his work when he sees me, eyes widening as he stands. His gaze flickers to the Red Priest I've enthralled, and I catch a small bit of dismay cross his face before he turns his full attention onto me, "So. We have failed."

Smile ever present on my face, I spread my arms wide, still entirely naked, but I don't think any of the priests I was about to go about murdering really cared about that at this point, "Yes, you have."

Benerro begins to raise his arms, "Then I suppose th- urk."

My sword plunges into the man's throat and I lean in close to murmur as he dies, "No, sorry. No last minute kamikaze attacks please. They ruin my mood."

High Priest Benerro, Flame of Truth, Light of Wisdom, and First Slave of R'hllor dies not with a whisper or with a bang, but with a choked gurgle before falling atop the corpse of the child he'd been desecrating. The chant breaks with his death, as a dozen Red Priests cry out in anguish and fear and rise to run. None escape the room.

As the last priest falls to the ground dead, I stop for a moment and close my eyes, taking in and releasing a slow breath as I listen to the sounds of a city being massacred around me. As expected, my Blessed have dealt with the infernals and are now in the city proper. I can hear the cries of mortals as they die to the last, their faith broken. Turning around, I open my eyes to see my thrall from the plaza still standing there, waiting for my next orders. His face though tells exactly how the man under my compulsion feels at this point.

Grinning wickedly, I wave a hand, "You have something to say, don't you? Go ahead, let it out."

He looks at me, defeat, grief, and the smallest spark of defiance warring in his eyes, "End it then monster. We failed to stop you here Valyrian. Kill me."

I stare for a moment, considering if it's really worth correcting him before deciding that no, it really isn't. Instead, I just shake my head and chuckle, "It's true, you have failed… but I'm not done with you yet Priest. I have something more special planned for you. For now, follow me and be a good little slave."

He can do nothing but curse quietly and obey my commands.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

In the aftermath of the Battle for Volantis, I take stock. The city is destroyed, much of it already wrecked in the violent revolution that the Red Priests perpetrated against the Volantis Triarchs. The invasion of my people didn't leave the city any better off either, as they fulfilled my command and the streets ran red with the blood of the city's people.

Most of the population had been slaves who had turned to the Red God because Benerro declared all as equal before the Lord of Light. They learned quickly that while their new equality had allowed them to triumph over their old masters, all it did in the face of my Blessed was make them all equally killable. Volantis was left a smoldering wreck, covered in the blood of its people.

As we prepared to make our departure back to Valyria, I was interrupted from my preparations by one of my Blessed, who approached and said they'd found something in the city that had to be brought to my attention. I was led to a tent in which I found a handful of children, dirtied up but all dressed in rich and expensive clothing, even if much of it was in tatters. Many of them had empty dull eyes and were just sitting on the floor listless, but when I entered, the eldest got to his feet and moved over to us.

"You are the one? The Messenger?"

I raise an eyebrow, curiosity filling every fiber of my being, "Yes, I am the Messenger. And you are?"

He straightens up at that, "I am the third son of Triarch Malaquo Maegyr. Or, I suppose I am now the only son. I wish to thank you on behalf of all of us for delivering us from the Red God's followers."

I look around the room pointedly, eyebrow still raised, "All of you?"

Nodding, he explains further, "Before you is all that remains of the noble houses of Volantis. All of us can trace our blood back to old Valyria, our lines unbroken. We are your descendants."

Blinking slowly to hide the faint surprise at his statement, I speak casually even as I pry for more information, "Are you now?"

The young boy is eager to make a good impression as he nods again, this time more emphatically, "The High Priest called you the Doom of Valyria. Your followers told my father that you are eternal and bestowed the gift of immortality upon those who proved themselves worthy. This means, you are of old Valyria yes? You have been waiting and biding your time until now, and now you rise again from the ashes to bring back the glory of old."

The teenage boy looks so sure of his theory and so pleased with himself that I can't help chuckling and saying, "You're quite the clever young man aren't you?"

He puffs out his chest and preens at my attention, but when I snap my fingers and Moqorro, my red priest thrall, shuffles into the tent, the boy quails immediately, eyes going wide at the sight of him like I suspected he would. Before he can freak out, I raise a hand and give him an assuring smile, "Do not worry. This slave is under my control. I just have a question for him."

Turning to Moqorro, I gesture at the children behind me, "Tell me slave, what did Benerro want with these children? When I killed him, he was in the process of dismembering one wasn't he? How did they play in to the fire walls around the city?"

The Red Priest's tone is dull and dead and his eyes are glassy as he answers in monotone, "The Lord of Light showed the First Flame a way to protect Volantis from your predations. It required the Blood of Royalty, which ran through the veins of every noble in Volantis."

I stare at him for a long moment before a slow smile spreads across my face. Turning to the noble boy standing there quietly, I step forward and take his shoulders in my hands, "It would seem that we are indeed kin. You and your fellows will return with us to Valyria, where there is a place waiting for you. Volantis will never rise again, but your families do not end here."

He just stares back at me, before nodding jerkily, either not even thinking to refuse, or knowing better than to try. Patting him on the shoulder I can't help a chuckle that escapes my mouth as I release him and turn to leave the tent. With a Red Priest thrall and a supply of King's Blood, there was quite a bit of powerful blood magic I could accomplish.

How fun.

 **A/N: Volantis has fallen and the Red Priesthood's back has been broken! Dun dun duuuun. What comes next? You'll just have to wait and see!**

 **Also bit of a side note, I really appreciate all the reviews I got on last chapter. FFdotnet's review system was down the entire week, but I was still able to read all your reviews through my email, and I enjoyed them all, so thank you.**

 **Please consider leaving me a review on this chapter as well, telling me what you think or asking me any questions you might have! I'll try to get back to you quickly now that the system will let me respond to reviews again heh.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: What's this? A new chapter already? Insanity! Heh, was feeling inspired here so I wrote a bit faster than I have been of late. Hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did.**

 **Year 278 AC**

 **Essos – Valyria**

Upon returning to Valyria with my remaining forces and everything that could be stripped off the ruins of Volantis, I find quite the surprise waiting for me. I'm barely in the city's boundaries before being told that there was a prisoner who had constantly been asking for me. A mention of red hair and a jeweled broach catches my attention and I make my way over to the dungeon a certain female Red Priestess is being held in.

Stepping through the door to the cell, the woman on the floor pushes herself onto her feet at the sight of me, but as I look her over, despite the red hair and necklace broach, I find she looks nothing like the Melisandre I remember from the show. I'm pretty sure I know why, but still, best to play things safe, "I'm told that you asked for me and that you professed to be here to pledge your loyalty to me. Who are you?"

Appearing as regal as ever despite her current living conditions, the Red Priestess straightens her back in a way that presses her voluptuous chest out and upward, clearly meant to entice me. However as she responds, she keeps her eyes down from mine in clear supplication, "I am called Melisandre of Asshai. I have come far to speak with you my Lord."

"And did you get all dolled up just for me?" My comment catches her off guard and I catch a glimpse of uncertainty and confusion before she schools her features again.

"I don't understand my Lord."

Smiling thinly, I step closer to Melisandre, taking in every bit of her. I was becoming sure that she'd molded this appearance specifically to attract me. It certainly hit all of the right buttons, the appearance of a young twenty something with decent sized tits and shoulder length hair the color of freshly spilt blood. Her face was angelic and invoked the desire I'd always held to take and see such features twisted into a combination of pleasure and shame and humiliation.

Breathing in her scent, I find she even smells delectable to my nose. Honestly, I swear she's cheating somehow, I have no idea how she's managed to perfectly encapsulate the physical appearance of my perfect woman. Still, on the outside I'm as much a picture of calm as she is as I give a short reply, "I am not a lord."

She looks up now, eyes locking with mine even as I step to her side, causing them to track me to the side before she answers me with confidence, "No, you are Azor Ahai Reborn. You are the Prince Who Was Promised."

I blink languidly at her words, silence falling in the cell for a moment as I soak them in, before my hand is around her throat and I'm pushing her up against the nearest wall. Her composure cracks a bit further this time, her eyes wide and her hands coming up to scrabble uselessly against my wrist even as I tighten my grip just a bit, "P-please…"

Chuckling darkly, I stop choking her for a moment and instead lean in to take in her scent before locking eyes with her, "Do you think me a fool Priestess? I know the prophecies. I know the signs. I even know when all of the candidates for the position are likely to be born. So, if you wish to stay on my good side, you will refrain from FUCKING LYING TO ME!"

That last bit is shouted with full vamp face on, rows of fangs out and eyes pitch black with golden pupils. Melisandre rears back as she takes in my true face, pressing herself up against the stone behind her and beginning to hyperventilate, "D-demon…"

Allowing my true features to recede, I smile calmly, "Ah good, a more honest reaction. Yes that's what your fellows in Volantis said as well, before I spilled their blood in gallons across the city and left it a desolate ruin."

The Red Woman seems to be breaking down right in front of me, so I release her, watching as she drops to her knees, "B-but why… the f-flames… R'hllor spoke to me. The m-message has never been clearer. I… I was sent here to serve you."

Despite knowing what sort of a conniving and manipulative bitch Melisandre is, I detect truth in her current reaction. Reaching down, I grab her by her shoulders and bring her to her feet, grabbing her chin and forcing her eyes to meet mine, "Now, remove this disguise. Show me your truth face Priestess, or I will carve into your body with my bare hands until you can no longer maintain the act."

She shudders but does not protest, and a moment later I'm treated to the sight of the young beautiful woman who seemed to be made solely for my preferences transforming into a decrepit old crone. I let her go and she stumbles slightly before righting herself, though she's unable to stop the hunch in her step, unable to fully straighten up as she quails before my gaze.

I'm surprised of course. I shouldn't have been, in hindsight it seems obvious now that the Melisandre I remember would also be an illusion, an act, perhaps one specifically designed to tempt Stannis Baratheon, but still, I am surprised. After a moment I wave a hand at her, "Alright, change back, that's just depressing to look at."

She does as I instruct, and my reaction seems to give her the chance to regain some of her aplomb, as her youthful appearance flows back over her and she straightens up once more pushing her chest out at me, "Prophecy be damned. The Red God spoke to me directly. I know you to be Azor Ahai. Darkness will flee before you and the Great Other's servants will fall to your strength."

That brings a slight smile to my face as I once more step up to her, this time more intimately than threatening. My hand reaches up and caresses one of her breasts. She doesn't reject my advances, even pushing her chest into my grip as a seductive and sultry smile comes to her lush red lips. My free hand closes around her throat a bit more gently this time as I work to replace the image of her true form with the beauty currently before me in my mind's eye. Sometimes, a perfect memory has its downsides.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at how real your little disguise feels." Chuckling, I lock eyes with her and shake my head slowly, "Your god sent you here as a sacrificial lamb Melisandre of Asshai. I wonder if you will feel used or accepting when you finally realize that. Still, I have a use for you, if your claim of loyalty is as true as you would have me believe."

Melisandre inclines her head, "I am at your disposal Azor Ahai."

Grinning widely, I release her and turn away, stepping towards the door and making my desire for her to follow quite clear even as I throw back over my shoulder, "Call me Master. After all, as follower of the Red God, you are nothing more than a slave yes?"

She thinks she's hiding it, but I catch the flash of anger hidden in her tone as she replies with a falsely meek, "Yes Master."

As I lead her out of the dungeons, she pipes up with a question, "If I may ask, what use do you have for me Master?"

I can only imagine she's imagining the worst, so I'm not surprised by how easily I shock her with my answer, "Why, you're going to help me hatch some dragon eggs of course."

 **XxScenebreakxX**

A couple of hours later everything is prepared. I'm not entirely sure this is going to work, but I figure it has a good enough chance. In an open field, everything has been prepared. A funeral pyre has been built, two petrified dragon eggs have been acquired from a rather large stock of the things collected from all around Valyria, Moqorro stands ready to obey my every last command, and the last son of Triarch Malaquo Maegyr is standing nearby but out of hearing range.

Melisandre stands off to the side, seeming unsure what I wish her to do. That's fine, I haven't actually told her anything specific yet. Surrounding us in a large loose ring are my Blessed, just to make sure there are no complications. Stepping up alongside Melisandre, I glance at her, "I assume you have an understanding of the Blood of Kings and its many uses?"

A blink and a visible straightening from her shows she has at least some, "Yes Master."

Smiling, I nod and continue on, "Good. Then tell me, when attempting to hatch dragon eggs, do you recommend a full sacrifice or do you believe a nonfatal amount of spilt blood would do?"

Now her ever so slightly shifting eyes betray her nervousness as she swallows and answers me, "I… I would imagine that a full sacrifice would be necessary for such a feat to be achieved."

I turn to her fully and cup her chin in my hand, "Don't do that anymore. Don't use I to address yourself. When speaking to me, you should address yourself as 'your slave' and when speaking to anyone else, you should address yourself as 'this slave'. Understood?"

She shudders but eventually nods, "Yes Master, your slave understands and obeys."

Grinning, I pat her cheek, "Good girl. It's about time we get this show on the road though I think."

Leaving Melisandre where she stands, I gesture to Moqorro, who's currently holding the dragon eggs, "Put them on the pyre Priest."

He does so, setting them so that they lean against each other in the center of the wood nest. Then, I step to the young man who I've had brought out here. He turns me to seeming a bit bewildered, clearly not having heard my conversation with Melisandre in its entirety and utterly confused on why he's here. Smiling at him, I place a reassuring hand on his shoulder and he gives me a tentative smile in return.

Then, my other hand lashes out and plunges into his chest, taking hold of his beating heart. As he stares at me wide eyed, choking up blood, I lift his light body up into the air and carry him to the pyre. There are things I could say here, both comforting and cruel, but I say none of them, staying silent instead and finally ripping his heart free from his chest.

Holding the organ over the dragon eggs in one hand as my other holds the boy's body aloft, I squeeze slowly and carefully, and paint every last inch of the petrified shells with the dead child's heart blood. Once they're fully covered, I let the corpse drop to one side of the eggs and the heart to the other side. Then I look to Moqorro, "Start the fire and sit amongst the flames. I give you leave to die Slave of R'hllor."

He does so, and the roaring cackle grows around us as I make no move to leave the blaze. Once again my clothes catch aflame, but I don't even notice, my body not even feeling the heat as it consumes Moqorro and the boy's corpse and the blood-covered eggs. All the while I stand before those eggs, staring down at them with the closest thing to hope I've felt in a very long time.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **On another plane of existence**

"What the fuck is he doing now? Is he seriously simulating Dany's little egg hatching scene as a test? Well, I'll give him points for sheer audacity alone."

"… Alright my dear Messenger, have your dragons. Where's the fun in Planetos without them right?"

XxScenebreakxX

I hear the crack at the exact same moment that I see it appear in the shell, the blaze having reached its peak and beginning to decline and leave mostly charred corpses and ash behind. The only things not damaged by the flames are my naked body and the eggs which had begun to shake almost an hour ago. Now one of the eggs has cracked open and I can hear the cries of a newborn within it, even as its brother finally begins to break free as well.

Stepping forward, I fall to my knees before the hatching eggs and watch raptly as the baby dragons inside of them slowly break free of their confinement and view the world for the first time. The first to get out sees me immediately and manages to creep over on unsteady legs as it looks up at me with small beady eyes. I reach down slowly and grin as it promptly tries to nip at my fingers. I let it gnaw on one with teeth that would probably remove the fingers off a normal human, but given I'm made of hardier stock, barely leave an indentation in my flesh.

Reaching out with my other hand, I rest it against the back of the creature's head and connect my mind to it. I'm not surprised to find that the creature is not sapient, merely sentient, but I am slightly disappointed. Mind walking it is as easy as expected of a newborn creature, and implanting loyalty and devotion is easier still. Since it wasn't already there and the hatchling's only established view of me had been to consider me a threat, I could only assume that I didn't get the free pass Daenerys got, for the simple fact that I really didn't have any magical Valyrian Blood in me.

No, my blood may be a different type of magic, and just as bullshit, but apparently it wasn't dragon imprinting material. It seemed I could easily fake it though, as the hatchling gnawing on my finger immediately let go after I influenced its mind and instead climbed my arm to settle on my shoulder. The other hatchling was out of its shell now, so I quickly made contact with its tiny head as well and changed its view of me. A moment later I had matching baby dragons on my shoulders.

Standing up, I make my way to the edge of the dying blaze and step through the remaining bits of fire to stand before a waiting Melisandre, still surrounded by my Blessed. Sparing a glance for my two new friends, I look to Melisandre and grin wickedly, "Well my darling pet that certainly went well. I suppose I'll keep you around for now."

Swallowing her pride, the priestess bows her head and responds with, "Your slave is happy to have pleased you with her service Master."

I chuckle and trust her to follow as I walk away from the pyre with my two newest acquisitions.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **On another plane of existence**

"You know I can see you now, right?"

…

A moment later a portal tinged in orange flames opens up and a large horned creature is pulled kicking and screaming through it. Once fully pulled through, it's released and immediately tries to escape, only to have the portal close right in its face. Slowly, the creature turns to face, for lack of a better word, the overwhelming presence that dominates the higher plane it is now trapped on.

"Hiding amongst the mortal's flames to try to escape my notice was quite ingenious, though to be fair the only reason it worked for so long was because I just didn't care. But then you couldn't resist, you just had to sneak into the ritual and suck all of that delicious magic afterglow from the egg hatching ritual. That was the big mistake, putting yourself in the flames that were trying, and failing, to burn my chosen champion. Might as well have put a giant neon sign around your neck saying 'I'm Right Here!' heh."

The creature doesn't really have any response to that. The first part was altogether true and in the end its own greed had led to this downfall. The second part didn't make a lick of sense though.

"Ah so many references are so lost on you narrow minded limited godlings. Very well, moving on. So, you are the one they call R'hllor. Your followers call you the Red God or the Lord of Light… has anyone ever told you that you look like a demon?"

More confusion comes from the creature now correctly identified as R'hllor. Demons are obviously of ice and the north. It looks nothing like an Other and was a bit insulted that it had been compared to the servants of its greatest enemy.

"Ah, is that how it works then? I'd have already known that, but I'm keeping myself blind to a lot of this information so things stay interesting. After all, I sent my champion to your world in the first place to see what amusement we could get out of it. I haven't even ransacked the minds of my newest pets so that I don't accidentally hit spoilers. I'm sure you recognize them."

The Lord of Light did. The perpetually terrified goddess with sixteen tits was from the Summer Isles Pantheon if he recalled correctly. That Pantheon had never really concerned him. Their entire cosmic power was barely equal to his despite their numbers and really, that was just sad. And then there were the four harpies perched on seemingly nothing. While he didn't originally recognize them, not that he focused on them, he could feel traces of the Old Ghiscari Pantheon that had long sat on their laurels while the world moved on without them.

"Oh you can? Whoops, didn't mean to leave traces, I guess I was a bit lazy there. Let me fix that."

Well, the feeling he'd gotten a moment ago was gone so whatever the presence had done had been successful, and wasn't that just terrifying. If R'hllor could sweat, he would be doing so profusely right now.

"Now now, don't fret so much. Yes, there will be some changes you'll have to get used to, but I've decided that there is in fact a way I'm willing to keep you around!"

Anything. The Lord of Light is willing to do anything to avoid complete erasure. This went beyond his eternal conflict with the Great Other. It didn't matter that both he and the world that had been his battleground for so long were nothing more than playthings for this new entity. No, what mattered was survival, in whatever form that took.

"Wonderful! So good to know you're so willing to change to accommodate me. Because this… this is going to feel weird~"

It probably could have been done in an instant, but instead it happened slowly, as R'hllor, a God who was a dead ringer for the more popular illustrations of Earth's Satan, was transformed from a hulking manly red horned goat man, to the just as popular depiction of a purple horned succubus. The being once known as R'hllor couldn't help herself, her first act in her new body was to reach up and heft her huge breasts with her long nailed hands, blinking as she looks down at herself.

"That's much better. Out with the old and in with the new! To that end, I'm thinking a name change is in order. R'hllor is a bit too manly. Lord of Light is definitely too manly and so is Red God. Hmm, what to change it to though?"

The newly made succubus had no suggestions, keeping an ear on the voice of the presence that had so easily remade her, but focusing most of her attention on her new body and the way it felt so good under her hands.

"I mean, I could just go with Lilith but cmon, that's just lazy. Lazy can be good though… maybe just go with the obvious answer. Your name is now R'hllya, Lady of Illumination, the Purple Goddess."

The newly christened R'hllya merely moaned in response as one of her hands finally dipped below her waistline and into her honeypot.

"Oh my, someone is feeling frisky. That's nice and all, but before you get into that, you best send a message to all of your followers about the change in management. My champion has places to be, I don't want him having anymore run ins with Red Priests. Though Purple Priestesses… yeah, yeah that could be fun. And hot. Make it so!"

 **XxScenebreakxX**

In the small room she'd been given, Melisandre of Asshai stared into the flames looking for guidance. This… this monster could not truly be Azor Ahai could he? There had to be a mistake. She would look to the Lord of Light and he would show her whether or not she should continue on this path or divert.

Only, guidance of the kind Melisandre was looking for was not what she found. After staring into the crackling flames for a seemingly endless amount of time, the Red Woman tore herself away from the fire and screamed loud enough to alert Blessed for a hundred miles around, her hands coming up to claw at her face and her eyes as her mind tried to assimilate what she'd been shown and largely failed.

 **A/N: Well here we are once more. Next chapter we sail off to Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh to have encounters with the Faceless Men and also possibly engage in a bit of piracy with the Seven Kingdoms.**

 **Please leave a review letting me know what you think of this chapter. Reviews on the site are once again not showing up, but I do still see them through my email, and I cherish every single one, so thank you to everyone who puts one up.**

 **Also feel free to leave a review suggesting the sort of random encounters with non-faceless Vali could have in Myr and Tyrosh, as well as ways for the Faceless to try (and fail) to kill him in those two cities. With Lys, I already have it largely planned out =)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Alright, no more making promises I can't keep lol. This chapter is a good 4,000 words long, but we're only halfway through Lys for now. So from now on, I'm just going to take my time and what comes will come. Hope you all enjoy this!**

 **Year 278**

 **Essos – Lys**

Arriving in Lys on the back of a full grown dragon is probably the most impressive entrance one can make, especially given Lys' history as a daughter of Old Valyria. Unfortunately, I had no grown dragons and thus could not pull off such an amazing feat. No, instead I rode through the large front gates of Lys on horseback, as it would give the wrong impression to simply walk in under my own power, an impression of weakness.

That impression may have been offset by the dragonlings perched on my shoulders peering around searchingly, but I saw no reason to test that. Thus, I had chosen a large stallion for my purposes and rode into the city like a visiting dignitary, which at this point I supposed I effectively was. Behind me rode a cohort of twenty of my blessed, with Chatana in her rightful place on my right side, and Melisandre on my left.

Speaking of the former Red Priestess, I glanced back at her and found she very quickly shied away, clearly having been staring at me reverently when she thought I wasn't looking. Smiling, I thought back to what had caused the change from her previously begrudging service to this utter devotion.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

I wasn't the first to arrive at the Red Priestess' quarters after she began screaming. However, the damage had already been done by the time my children started arriving, so finding Melisandre rocking back and forth on the floor with her eyes clawed out of her skull, they stood back and waited for me to arrive to pass judgment.

Offering comfort had never been my strong suit, not unless we were talking sex, and this situation didn't seem to really call for that sort of intimacy. So stepping forward, I went with the first thing that came to mind, sneering down at the self-blinded woman, "Slave. Did I give you leave to mutilate yourself?"

Melisandre froze at my voice and then flinched as my words register. After a moment she bowed her head and quietly answered me with a simple, "Master."

Giving an exasperated sigh, I kneel beside her and bite into my arm before pressing it against her mouth much to her chagrin. Still, when I command her to drink she does so, and moments later she turns to look upon me with brand new very wide eyes. I see more reverence there than I'm suspecting, before suddenly she throws herself at my chest and sobs.

I still don't hug or comfort her. Instead my hand closes around her throat and I pull her away from me and hold her there, eyeing her like a fine piece of meat, "Explain silly girl. This is behavior unfitting for the old crone you're hiding under that skin. Get yourself together."

Swallowing thickly, Melisandre nods as she does as I ordered before speaking haltingly. It takes a while, but I get the gist of the explanation by the end of it. She'd looked into her flames for guidance from her Red God, and seen more than she'd ever seen before. Seen more than her mortal mind would allow her to comprehend it seemed, as her first reaction had been to tear out of her own eyes.

Melisandre finishes with an almost reverent tone as she grabs at my hand and begins to kiss the knuckles, "But your slave understands now Master. Your slave understands the Almighty One's power and your place as his Messenger. The prophecies are meaningless now. Made by weaker entities who could never have foreseen you and your God."

I raise an eyebrow as the formerly haughty woman continues to pay worship to my hands in an increasingly intimate but also obsessive way, "Is that so?"

She nods even as she licks along the back of my hand. Damnit, I don't have a hand fetish. At least, I didn't until a picture perfect bombshell of a redhead began to pay homage to my fingers like they were gods themselves.

"Yes. My Lady has shown your slave her place, just as my lady was shown hers. If you will have your slave, she shall spend the rest of her days at your feet."

Smiling thinly outwardly, inwardly I can't help frowning a bit and cursing my 'deity' just a tiny bit. Damnit, I was looking forward to breaking Melisandre myself. Instead it seems that the girl's mind had been broken by divine correspondence not meant for mortal senses and to recover, it had restructured itself around pure devotion to me.

Really, while the bits about the Red God turned Purple Goddess were interesting enough and I couldn't help but wonder if the rest of the Red Priesthood's branches might have gotten a similar message, I was still just a bit miffed to be robbed of this bit of fun here and now. Ah well, no use crying over spilt milk. Removing my hand from Melisandre's grasp I bring it to rest on her beautiful red locks.

Cooing and nuzzling into my hand, Melisandre smiles up at me with a clear invitation in her eyes. I just smile at her and shake my head, "Oh no my dear, you'll have to earn that. Go to sleep now, I've decided you're coming to Lys with me. We leave tomorrow."

She blinks at that even as I withdraw my hand and step away to depart. Before I can leave, she calls out one more time, "T-this slave will need new clothes Master. Continuing to wear red would be an insult to the Almighty One and to you, Master."

I glance back at her and a wicked smile crosses my face, "A good point slave. Very well, don't sleep if that is your wish. Either obtain something new before we depart in the morning, or go naked."

This time I don't leave time for a response, blurring off to locate Chatana. Melisandre has a delightful way of making me randy and Chatana loves being used as my stress reliever.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

My eyes leave Melisandre's face and drift down to her current dress. She might as well have gone naked, for all the covering her new lavender garments did of her body. I was half sure she'd just gone and found a roll of the fabric in the color she wanted and then cut it into the most provocative and revealing attire she could imagine.

It was certainly making sitting on a horse difficult for me, but as I am perfect and amazing in every way, I valiantly succeeded as we made our way deeper into the city. It didn't take long for us to be stopped by an important looking toady begging for a moment of my time. I deigned to give it, staring down at him imperiously as he stumbled through his message.

"A-ah… ah, Great and Powerful Dragonlord, the Council of Magisters humbly requests that you meet with them."

I think it might be the dragonlings on my shoulder staring down at the cowering mortal in eerie unison with my own glare that is causing him such distress. When I finally deign to speak, I do so curtly, "When and where?"

He blinks as if he'd been expecting an outright refusal and can't believe his luck, "Ah, uh, well now if your great lordship is willing. I have been instructed to show you to them if you prove amenable. T-this way?"

It's easy enough to follow the toady as he leads us through Lys' crowded streets from there. The giant stallion I sit atop, combined with the living breathing baby dragons resting on my shoulders, create a navigable path through the bustling city all on their own.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

Eventually I have to dismount and allow my people to take the reins of my stallion, as I'm told they will not be allowed into the meeting anyways. Melisandre and Chatana are allowed though, which I find more than a little amusing given how dangerous both can be in their own ways. There is no comment made regarding my dragonlings, though I do note the guards at the entrance of the large building we've been led to tense up and pale just a bit upon noticing them.

I can't help myself, reaching out I use the connection I'm keeping with the hatchlings' minds and have the one on my left shoulder snap at the guard nearest him, just for fun. Then, we're past those guards and headed inside. The room we're directed into is of moderate size, with a large circlular table behind which nine people sit. I can only imagine these are the Magisters of Lys, the city's ruling body.

Smiling as I step up, I bring my hands together and give a very slight bow in greeting, "Magisters. It is a pleasure to meet you all. You have a beautiful city."

My eyes never go down of course, so I'm treated to the uncomfortable looks on all of their faces. It would appear that none of them are truly inclined to talk, but eventually the one seated at the middle stands up and spreads his arms wide, "Dragonlord Vali of Valyria. The pleasure is ours. This is… an ostentatious occasion. Until now, dragons were of course assumed to be gone forever. As was your great empire."

My smile takes on a predatory edge as I settle myself into the chair provided for me at the far end of the round table, my female companions taking their places behind me while the dragonlings on my shoulder looked about lazily at my prodding, their eyes fixing on each magister for a moment, one after another.

"Indeed, I have seen how the daughters of Valyria so quickly moved on after the Doom. Not that I blame you of course, it was the Dragonlords' own hubris that led to the fall of the empire. I am proud to see that Lys still stands so tall after all this time. Let me be clear, I am not here to demand tribute or your return to the fold. I assume that is why you asked for an audience with me upon my arrival in your great city?"

The Magister operating as a spokesperson for the rest clears his throat and nods, "Well, yes. There are some concerns about your aims for the future and how Lys is involved. There are also some concerns about what we've heard of your exploits, since you ventured out from Valyria."

I raise an eyebrow and give a cocky smirk in return before resting back in my chair and waving a hand airily, "Well, let's start with the latter to clear up any misconceptions you have about the former. Tell me what you think I have done, the rumors you have been subjected to, and I shall tell you the truth of them. I have nothing to hide."

I'm throwing Lys' leaders for a loop, I can tell just by looking at them. They were probably expecting more aggressive arrogance, rather than casual arrogance. They were more than likely prepared for the worst, given I could hear dozens of heartbeats and the shifting of armor clad men in the rooms around us, ready to rush in at a moment's notice.

Not that I was overly worried. They would attack me at their own peril. Nonetheless, the Head Magister or whatever he was, was speaking now, and so I listened in to hear what they'd decided about me.

"W-well… We know that you have somehow cleared up the terrible conditions around Valyria, to the point that it is said trade is beginning to move back through the area. The overabundance of krakens that inhabited the Smoking Sea are no more, and the Smoking Sea itself is in need of a renaming. The red sky over Valyria is blue for the first time in centuries."

I nod to all of that, "All true, yes. Valyria is on the road to recovery."

Another magister finally deigns to speak up at that, leaning forward with narrowed eyes, "How?"

My smile morphs into a wide grin. I'm told I have the most disarming dimples, when my face isn't covered in blood, "The Almighty One provides."

It appears that the men across from me are finally finding their courage, because it's an entirely different magister who responds to that, "Ah yes, we have heard of this god of yours. Was it in his name that you razed Volantis?"

"No. I sent some of my followers to Volantis laden with gifts and they were in the city for barely a night before a slave revolt led by the city's Red Priests saw most of their number killed and the rest chased from Volantis. It was in their names that I took what remained of the First Daughter and broke it over my knee."

Another magister is quick to fire back and I'm wondering if this is a tactic of theirs, "Yes, the Servants of R'hllor are another concern. Before Volantis, they were proclaiming that the Doom of Valyria was coming for us all to anyone who would listen. What do you have to say about that?"

I smile thinly, "I could not begin to tell you what the Lord of Light's slaves were thinking. I do remember the ones in Volantis referring to me as the Doom, but I assure you I am anything but. If I was, I would not come to Lys as a friend, would I?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. It is rumored that you arrived in Slaver's Bay as a friend. Now Yunkai is in ruins while Astapor and Mereen are held under the control of the one they call the Eternal Master… who is said to answer to you."

Chuckling, I shake my head, "He answers to the Almighty One, as do I. The Eternal Master merely recognizes the strength of my connection to our god and is thus very receptive to my advice."

"Yes, back to this Almighty One. We have heard interesting things about his supposed gifts. Boasts and rumors of immortality and impeccable healing given by blood."

My grin gets even wider, "Oh dear, you lot are quite persistent in prying into my secrets. Very well, if it will help you to believe, I shall show you what I've shown many others."

Pulling a dagger from my belt causes a bit of tensing at the other end of the table, but when I reach behind me and grasp Chatana's hand without leaving my seat, the magisters relax. Pulling her dark skinned hand up to the table where they could all see it, I slashed my blade across the palm and allowed them to watch as the cut healed before their eyes.

"As you can see, my Ravia is blessed by the Almighty One, thus she heals quickly."

Reaching back around to my other side, I grasp Melisandre's wrist in my hand and jerk her forward. She comes gladly, not resistant, merely surprised. As I lay her paler hand on the table and slash across her palm with the same blade, she keeps her reaction to a quiet hiss. I show the deep gash to the magisters for a moment even as blood wells up in the cut, before releasing her wrist so she can cradle her wounded hand to her chest.

Smiling amicably, I shrug, knife still in hand, "As you can see, my slave is not blessed, and thus she does not."

The magister who originally asked about the blood swallows thickly but soldiers on, "And how does one receive this blessing?"

I chuckle at that, "I would think that's obvious. Nothing less than complete conversion of course."

Most of the men around the table seemed to have expected this answer, but it doesn't stop a tense silence from falling over the room. Shrugging, I go ahead and break it, "Of course, one does not need to worship the Almighty One to be healed. Our god is generous, even to those who do not commit themselves to him. Like so."

Drawing the dagger across my own hand, I gesture Melisandre forward. She moves quickly to comply and I grab her hair to more easily bring her mouth to my already healing cut. She drinks quickly and then I push her head away, only to grab her wrist and show the magisters her hand as it heals from my blood.

"Any can partake in the gift of blood. It does not convey a permanent blessing, but does allow for near instant healing of most any ailments. Those of my Blessed who remain in the city once I'm gone will give the gift freely to those who ask. I advise you to ask though and not try to demand. My Blessed can and will protect themselves."

As most of Lys' leaders chew on what they've just seen, one who has not yet spoken finally does so, taking the conversation down a different tangent, "I can't help but notice that you have one of the newly christened Violet Slaves attending to you. Perhaps you could enlighten us on the fate that befallen the widespread Red Priesthood? It has become a defunct organization seemingly overnight. Red Temples are defiled and desecrated by their own clergy, and those who once stared into the flames have either committed suicide or thrown away their red garments for those of a more purple hue. Now, they call themselves Violet Slaves and offer their bodies to any who would sate their lusts on them for free."

The magister snorts and finishes with, "The city's pleasure houses are ready to revolt over the matter. They cannot compete with free service after all."

Shaking my head, I shrug helplessly, "What the remnants of the Red God's followers do is not my concern. I hold no animosity towards the larger organization even if they seemed to be united in their hatred of me given the rumors you say they were trying to spread across Essos. My quarrel was with those who made Volantis their home, and the treatment they visited upon my Blessed. My rage is sated. As for the slave at my shoulder, I give her leave to speak for herself."

Melisandre starts at that but takes it for the command it is and pipes up, "T-this slave has had her eyes opened to the truth and this slave imagines that many of her peers experienced the same. The Lord of Light is gone. The Lady of Illumination stands in his place and her will is clear. This slave in particular is to serve the Messenger in whatever manner he chooses. She cannot speak for her peers. This slave suspects that they are merely carrying out their own directives from our Lady."

Silence falls on the room once more and I suspect that everyone in the room is either too stunned or too reserved to say what everyone is more than likely thinking. Wait no, there's a magister about to speak his mind. He's looking at me as he talks, "A religion that has stood for longer than much of Essos moves against you, and in response, a city is razed and you have somehow managed to convince the former followers of a god that their deity has changed genders and wishes for them to offer their bodies freely to any who would partake. How?! How did you do this?!"

Once again I can only shake my head, "You give me too much credit Magister. If anything was done, it was done by the Almighty One because he deemed it necessary in his infinite wisdom. I will take credit for the destruction of Volantis. I will admit to marching on Yunkai and subduing Mereen. But the evolution of the Red Priesthood into this new form is not my doing. The Almighty One is working through other means than me in this."

At that, the magister from the beginning, the one I assume to be in some sort of higher position above the others from his seat at the middle of the nine, speaks up, "Of course Dragonlord. We all believe you, I'm sure. To that end, I feel it is time to draw this meeting towards its close. After everything we have heard, I believe that we should go forward with what was discussed before our guest's arrival. Are there any objections?"

That piques my interest, even as each magister around the table declines to object, some more begrudgingly than others. Still, once the magister in charge notes that everyone is in agreement, he motions to a door guard who leaves and moments later returns with two young women dressed in sheer white nighties. Of course, they're not just two young women. They're twins and they remind me strongly of what I saw on a television screen of a girl who tried to play at Queen. Old Valyria is strong in these girls, but then, Old Valyria is strong in much of Lys.

Standing from my seat as the twins are marched up to me, I give them a cursory glance before looking to the magisters with a raised eyebrow. That gets a quick response from the one in charge, "Dragonlord Vali, please accept these pleasure slaves as a token of our friendship, which while young, we hope will grow to be as strong as a bond of blood between brothers."

I can't help being a bit of a dick. Glancing at what are apparently my newest slaves, I remark dryly, "Pleasure slaves you say? How am I to know they are not disease ridden?"

Given the looks on the faces of the men sitting around the table, I know I'm pushing it with such an insult. But they all bite their tongues as the spokesperson hides his own anger behind a large fake smile, "Worry not Dragonlord. They are virginal."

That gets a blink from me as I look back at the twin girls. Their heads are bowed and their eyes are hidden from me as I absently remark, "Virginal pleasure slaves. Seems like a bit of an oxymoron. No matter, I shall accept your gift! I am left in awe of Lys' generosity and hospitality. While I will have to move onto Myr soon enough to continue to follow the path my god has set before me, I know that I can count Lys as a friend moving forward. As Lys can count on me and mine if we are needed."

Bowing slightly once more, I wake my dragonlings from the slumber I'd put them in earlier in the meeting and will them to give a synchronized screech as I turn and leave the meeting chamber with the number of women trailing behind me doubled.

As I go I can't help notice the animosity directed at me by one of the fringe magisters is leaps and bounds above his peers. This magister has not spoken up the entire time, but the hatred in the glare he levies at my back as I depart is inarguable. He'd done well to hide it as well, I wouldn't have even noticed if I hadn't seen the look through the eyes of one of my shoulder companions as I had it glance back.

What had I done to evoke such hatred from a man I'd never spoken to? Well, to be fair that could be any number of things I actually had done. Still, I felt like there was something more… personal attached to it. If he'd had a grievance based on my actions before I entered the city, I imagine he would have brought it up during the interrogation Lys' leaders just put me through.

No, this was something else, and I was already beginning to think up a workable theory, one that would be easy enough to confirm or deny. A slow grin spreads across my face.

Virginal pleasure slaves indeed.

 **A/N: So hopefully this helps those who have been wondering how the rest of the world views Vali a bit. Please leave me a review letting me know what you think, I thrive on feedback, it is the lifeblood of my drive to write!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Well here we are, the Chapter 10 hurdle once more! And this time the story isn't over or almost over! Yay~ We still have quite a ways to go! Hope you all enjoy Vali's dickbaggery here.**

 **Year 278 AC**

 **Essos – Lys**

As we walked through the bustling streets of the wealthy island city, I passed off the dragonlings to Chatana. She was after all the only one I'd taught how to connect with their minds to keep them docile. Given that I intended for her to ride one of them once they grew too large for my shoulders, it seemed appropriate. Recognizing the unspoken dismissal for what it was, both her and Melisandre broke off and left me to wander the streets with my new slave girls.

The twins were quiet as we walked, and at a cursory glance you would see nothing more than slaves dutifully trailing slightly behind their master. However, as I studied them out of the corner of my eyes whenever I stopped to pretend to browse a market cart's wares, I could sense a different truth hidden under their feigned obedience. They did their best, but they could not entirely hide the bearing which they were born with.

Every fiber of their poorly hidden upbringing screamed that they were far more than slaves, at least before they were gifted to me. As we continue to walk along, I consider what to do with them even as Lynesi of all ages and genders attempt to grab a moment of my time, a fragment of my attention.

A few are starving beggars who only recognize me as a wealthy man and nothing more. Some are just passerbys who recognize me as a wealthy foreign man, and go as far as to offer their homes as a place to rest and dine for the evening so they may have a story with which to enhance their status. Some of these are young women who look like they wish to gain more than just a story. Then, there are the merchants and shopkeeps who constantly attempt to gain my attention so they may try to sell me something.

I ignore the majority of them, as nothing really catches my eye. I'm just taking my time enjoying a walk with my new slaves, as they slowly grow more and more uncomfortable. I wonder if they will be recognized, given my current working theory on their origins. After a bit I'm considering ending our little walk and making my way over to where my Blessed have set up shop, when one of the many Lyensi vying for my attention draws my eyes.

He looks no different than anyone else I've ignored as we walked, but my sight is not all I rely on and when I really 'look' at him, I see a strange emptiness. He doesn't smell right either. The entire thing comes across as entirely fake. A magical disguise of some sort? My curiosity is piqued so I stop and turn to him with a raised eyebrow and a smile.

"Oh? And what do you have to offer me?"

The fake man goes through all the proper motions, bowing low and simpering as he responds, "I am a man of humble means, but I can offer you a place to rest your feet and a warm evening meal for you and your servants."

His act is perfect in every way that matters to mortal eyes. I know that the twins behind me certainly can't tell anything is wrong, though I imagine they have other things on their minds at the moment. Grinning, I graciously accept the offer and the mystery man leads us into his small abode, directing us to a small sitting room and leaving us alone, supposedly to prepare our meals.

I was expecting poison or an ambush at this point, so to secure my newest slaves, the first thing I do once we're alone is open a vein on one of my wrists and squeeze a few drops of blood into the cups of water in front of both of them. They look at me with wide eyes, which works perfectly for me, as I easily compel them to drink.

Once they've done so, I finally relax fully, smiling placidly as I look between the two beautiful young women, "Now then, what should I call you?"

"Alyn-"

"Whatever you wish, Master."

The first is cut off by what I assume is a foot under the table from the other as she stops her. I just raise an eyebrow as they stare at each other angrily for several long moments. My smile grows and I chuckle, shaking my head, "Silly little darlings. You're as much slaves as I am a Dragonlord."

That gets both of their attention. The one who almost gave me her name looks incredulous, "But you are a dragonlord. We saw your dragons. … Master."

She remembers to tack it on at the end, but it's hilariously obvious at this point that neither girl has had years of proper training in how to be a pleasure slave. But then, I'd figured that the moment I'd been told they were virginal. I was beginning to suspect that this was less about me and more about whomever they were the daughters of. I wasn't the target, I was the weapon wielded to tear someone down that the magisters wanted disgraced, either among their own number or else someone growing too powerful elsewhere in the city.

Either way, I would need to rectify the situation. I was no one's weapon. Still, the girl's words warrant a response, "Yes, with those two baby dragons, I can be called a dragonlord now. Just as you both are now slaves after being gifted to me. I am now a dragonlord and you are now property. But what were we before that hm?"

Catching the girl's hand in mine and locking eyes with her, I intiate compulsion, "Tell me, who are you and your sister really?"

"My name is Alynera Rogare and my sister is Jaehra Rogare. We were the daughters of Magister Rogare, but our family has been in decline for generations. Our father has barely been able to maintain his title and when news of your eminent arrival reached Lys, he made poor decisions. His enemies used this to acquire us for you. Our father chose not to refuse."

Jaehra is staring at her sister betrayed as I release Alynera's hand and lean back with a satisfied smile on my face. Alynera blinks and then looks at me with wide eyes, "I-I… w-why did I tell you that?"

"Because I wanted you to darling. And as my property, you will do as I want, always. You both will."

That gets identical shivers from the two identical girls as they look down away from me. Still smiling, I open my mouth to speak, but I'm interrupted by the return of our mystery man. He's actually carrying plates of food for each of us, and I raise an eyebrow as he sets them down and then joins us to eat.

"I am so pleased you decided to grace my home with your presence Milord. Please, enjoy."

Grinning as I look down at what looks like a very appetizing home cooked meal, but is probably riddled with some sort of poison and incline my head slightly in thanks before digging in without a care in the world. The twins eat after a moment of watching me, as does the mystery man. For several minutes the room is silent besides the sound of cutlery hitting plates and chewing.

Then, Jaehra pales and begins to gasp for breath. Alynera looks at her in concern but doesn't even get her sister's name out before beginning to choke as well, her hand going to her throat. Together, my host and I sit in silence as the young women expire in mere moments. At the same time, I can feel the poison filtering through my own system and burning away. I remain seated as I lock eyes with the man across the table from me.

"So you went with the strangler? I had wondered if I would recognize the poison you used or if I would have to ask. Tell me, why do the Faceless Men want me dead?"

It's an educated shot in the dark, but I'm feeling pretty confident over it as the man silently rises from his seat. I could be wrong of course, just because I remember the Faceless Men using the strangler doesn't mean others can't. But it just fits so well with what I already know. This man is fake and empty, like he's wearing a skin that doesn't belong to him. I don't believe I've run across a faceless man before now, but this is what I imagine they would be like to my senses.

Without saying a word the assassin leaps over the table at me, a small dirk sliding into his hand and aimed directly at my eye, clearly intended to skewer through into my brain. My hand closes around his with the blade barely a hair away from my eyeball, but I show no fear as I hold the quivering assassin at bay with my greater strength. A moment later his other arm comes up and attempts to jam a larger dagger into my neck.

This time I don't bother catching him before he can, instead my palm straightens out and moves with enough speed to sever his hand at the wrist, the dagger and his hand flying away from us as he cries out in pain. Finally rising from my chair, I leverage my strength and break the fingers on his remaining hand, before releasing it and letting him drop the small dirk from his useless digits.

Grabbing him by the chin, I force him to look into my eyes and try compulsion, even though I already doubt it will work on this creature, "Tell me who hired the House of Black and White to kill me. I would hate to have to slaughter my way through all of you as I make my way through Essos and beyond."

As I thought, it doesn't work and instead the Faceless Man spits in my face and when he finally speaks, all he says is, "Valar Morghulis."

My face twists into what I imagine is a mocking sinister smile, as my free hand comes up to grab onto the assassin's hair.

"I am no man."

Then I pull and with an easy wrench considering my strength, I remove his head from his body, sending blood spurting across the table and my front and the wall as well as the body drops to the ground. I stare at the head for a long moment and then toss it down contemptuously as well, before slowly settling back into my seat.

I pick up my cutlery and return to eating as I ponder what just happened, the faces of my dead twin slaves still lying in their own unfinished plates. So the Faceless Men were hunting me. I was largely ambivalent to that nugget of knowledge right now. Let them come, I'd kill all takers, and perhaps I would become the first contract in history that the Faceless Men called off. I would certainly be one they never completed.

And if they did not stop? Well, burning down the House of Black and White was one short trip up to Braavos, wasn't it? The thought brought a large smile to my face even as I heard the sounds of men in armor approaching the house. It was a small number, only three heartbeats, so I sat and waited, continuing to finish my meal in the meantime.

Eventually through the door came a familiar magister along with two of what I could only assume were loyal family guards. All three stopped short at what lay before them. I can imagine how it looked to them having just arrived on the scene. A room covered in sprays of blood with two young women expired and faceplanted in their food, a beheaded body laid out across the table and a head rolled to a stop against a nearby wall.

And there I was at the head of the table across from them, calmly eating my food as I looked up at them and smiled, "Ah, Magister Ragore I assume. I was just talking to your daughters about you."

Ooh, there it is, the shock on his face quickly giving way to anger as he suddenly grabs a sword from the sheathe at one of his guard's sides and points it at me, "You! What have you done to my children?!"

I continue to be utterly unconcerned as I glance towards the aforementioned children and shrug, "This man attempted to poison me and cared not for collateral damage it seemed. So they died. In return, I tore his head off of his body."

That gets some paling expressions from all three men, and I assume only now that I've gestured at it have they noticed the bloody head that had rolled against a nearby wall and was conveniently staring at them with wide open clouded over eyes.

The Magister is left at a loss for words as he turns his gaze back to me, "You… you… you!"

Smiling, I stand up and draw all three pairs of eyes to my own. My eyes flick between the men as I compel them easily, "You two, leave and forget all of this. Magister, you will return that sword and then take a seat."

All three shuffle to do my bidding, and I'm soon left alone with the man who'd been forced to sell his daughters into slavery. He's shaking with what I figure is a combination of rage and fear as he sits where I'd told him to. We don't remain alone for long though as both of his dead daughters come back to life with wide eyes and large gasps.

His eyes flicker between them, wide with fear as his anger is forgotten by the sheer horror of what seems to be happening. Neither Jaehra or Alynera notice him, after all their first sight upon coming back from the dead is a corpse still bleeding from the stump where it's head had used to be. In a moment they're on the table and licking at the blood from opposite sides, before letting out cries as their transformation is completed and they become full hybrids.

Even then, they look to me instead of their father, Jaehra the first to speak, "Master? What happened?"

I direct my answer at her father, "Do you remember what I said Magister? Nothing less than complete conversion."

My newest hybrids' heads snap to their seated father at my words and I notice the way he pales even further at the hunger and hatred in their eyes. They move as one as they begin to slink across the table towards him, Alnyera grinning wickedly, "Hello father."

He seems to be at a loss for words, as the only sound that comes out of his mouth is a whimper. Still, before they reach him I clear my throat, "Stop."

Both of my newest pets respond to my command, stopping and turning back at me. Jaehra juts out her lower lip and pouts at me, while Alnyera puts on the puppy dog eyes, "B-but M-master… please, let us have our fun with this worthless fool. We're so hungry."

Smiling, I move from my place at the head of the table and slowly walk around it to approach the frozen magister. Along the way, I pass Jaehra and run a hand through her hair affectionately, while Alnyera looks on with clear jealousy. Finally, I come to a stop before the seated Magister, staring down at him.

"Do you think I should let them have you Magister? I do believe as they are now, they would tear you apart."

The Magister shows his true colors then, the same personality that let him give up his daughters instead of his seat on the Council of Magisters as he blubbers incoherently, "P-please d-don't let them kill me, I'll do anything!"

Chuckling, I grab a nearby cup and empty it onto the floor. Then I pierce one of my veins once more and fill the cup with some of my blood, before pushing it into the terrified man's hands, "Very well, then you will drink."

He takes it and looks at the blood with wide confused eyes for a moment, but a growl from one of his daughters causes him to lift the cup with shaking fingers to his lips and drink it down. Once he's done so, I take the blood stained cup from his grasp and set it back down on the table, before looking to my newest children, "Now you may kill him. You will leave him in one piece though, or I will be very upset with you."

"What?! No! No please!"

I move back to my original seat at the head of the table and settle down to watch as the magister's daughters take out their frustrations on their dear old father. Much blood is shed before the life expires from his eyes, but once they're done, both girls return dutifully to my side, draping themselves over either side of my body.

They rub themselves against me suggestively and both are vying for my attention, but it's all on their dead father as I wait patiently and plan out what will happen next. Eventually he comes back to life with a gasp and I watch with a small smile as he grabs the cup in front of him that I'd filled with the blood of the dead assassin and downs it to satisfy the hunger in his mind. One transformation later and he's staring at his hands with wide eyes, clearly feeling the power in his body now.

I don't wait for him to get over that, suddenly pushing off from between Alynera and Jaehra to appear before their father, grabbing him by his throat and slamming him onto the table as his daughters watch on with wide eyed interest. He scrambles against my grip but despite his new strength, it's useless. I catch his eyes and he stills without me even needing to compel him, swallowing thickly and asking, "What have you done to me?"

"Complete conversion my new friend. You are now a member of my Blessed, one of my dear friends and followers. You will serve my interests in Lys for a long time to come."

He nods shakily, his fear still very palpable as he responds, "Y-yes. W-whatever you say."

Chuckling, I shake my head and lock eyes once more with him, preparing to compel him, "No no, I do not rule through fear my dear magister. My enemies can fear me and hate me, but my allies and my friends love and adore me. You my friend, will come to feel the same in just one moment…"

And then I proceed to make it so as I twist the magister's mind into one that will best suit my future interests in Lys. Once he's more agreeable to my way of thinking, I give him his orders and then leave him to clean up the mess as I take my twin beauties and head for the compound I'd had purchased upon arrival in Lys so that the Blessed I left behind here would have a place to work out of.

There were glances at mine and my pets' appearances when we arrived, but nobody commented. Melisandre looked at me longingly, and clearly hoped I'd invite her into the bath I had her prepare for the three of us, but in the end I just gave her an evil smirk and told her to leave once she'd finished drawing it. Stripping down, Jaehra and Alynera can barely keep their hands off me long enough for us to clean off the blood, but then I don't exactly mind.

My own hands explore their tight nubile bodies, kneading and groping and pinching sensitive spots in ways that cause them to yelp and shiver in delight under my learned ministrations. Eventually Alynera drops beneath the water and takes me into her mouth for a bit of underwater fun even as Jaehra attacks my mouth with her own and does her level best to explore it with her tongue.

One hand comes to rest on the top of Alynera's head as she does her level best to blow me despite a clear lack of experience, the other grabbing hold of Jaehra's ass and pulling her closer to me as I return her lewd kiss with equal fervor. Jaehra moans into my mouth as my hands work their magic on her supple body, and in turn I let out a groan as Alynera's inexperienced tongue finds the magic spot to lick on the underside of my cock.

Eventually I pull Alynera out of the water and spin her around before grabbing her hips and impaling her on my hard length. Her virginity tears but she doesn't seem to notice or care, Jaehra watching on with visible jealousy as Alynera grabs hold of the sides of the tub and bounces herself up and down on me, causing the water we're in to slosh about wildly, splashing out onto the floor as her eyes roll back and she screams out in pleasure as she climaxes noisily and messily.

Ordering Jaehra to sit back, pleasure herself, and watch, I keep fucking Alynera until she's truly exhausted even with her Hybrid stamina, my thick cock pistoning in and out of her over and over again in every position in the book, some I have to walk her through as she has no idea what they are. I learn something interesting over the course of the few hours it takes to tire her out, but she doesn't seem to notice, lost in the depths of pleasure as she is, so I don't bring it up, merely making note of it and continuing on.

Once she's largely insensate do I finally pull out of her entirely and leave her lying half-unconscious on the edge of the tub, stepping out of the severely depleted bathwater and finally moving to Jaehra, who welcomes me with open arms. Grinning, I press my cock into her wet and waiting lower lips and break her hymen as well, taking her virginity for the first time same as her sisters. She gasps but all her work at preparing herself for me has left her too aroused to care.

Still, I do stop this time, lodged inside of her even as I brush her face with my fingertips and look into her eyes, "I have some bad news darling."

She blinks up at me confused, even as I grin rogueishly. It's bad news for her after all, not for me, "You died still virginal."

Her brow furrows even as I slowly draw out of her, pausing for a moment before driving back in and once again breaking her reconstructed hymen. Her eyes widen in slight pain as well as understanding as her legs wrap around my waist this time, keeping me inside of her even as I chuckle, "My eternal twin virgins. I suppose they will write songs about you two. I'll try to let you and your sister decide what goes into those songs alright? But for now, I think there's something you want."

Jaehra moans and nods, acknowledging and filing away the information I'd just given her, but not really caring about such things right now when what she really wanted was her Master's cock filling her over and over again. So that's what she got, as I fucked the fresh twin sister into the ground all through the rest of the night and well into the morning.

By the time she was as insensate as her sister, her sister was ready and raring to go again. So I fucked Alynera until she was exhausted once more as well, and kept that up until we were all hungry for blood. Then we got back to fucking, as it turns out Lynesi twins are almost as insatiable as I am. With the knowledge that their father was carrying out my commands and setting everything up for my Blessed so that my stay in Lys was far easier than it would have been originally, I spent my days teaching his daughters what real pleasure slaves were expected to know.

After all, even if they were eternally virgins, they'd come advertised as pleasure slaves. It was only right that I get what I was promised, after a fashion.

Even if I had to train them myself.

 **A/N: Huh, wrote 4,000 words without a scene break. Not sure what that means. Next chapter we start the journey to Myr! There's just going to be one teensy little obstacle in the way, but Vali is adept at smashing through obstacles, isn't he!**

 **Let me know what you think please, I've really been appreciating all the feedback I've gotten for this story so far, I think being able to get other perspectives and opinions has only improved my writing and the story itself, so thank you all of you, and please continue to leave reviews giving me your thoughts, even if its something as simple as you liking the direction of the story! =)**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Well, here's the newest chapter! Was able to fit Myr into one chapter unlike Lys, so we'll be moving onto Tyrosh next time! Also a small treat at the end of this chapter, that some have been asking for! =)**

 **Year 278 AC**

 **Essos – The Disputed Lands**

When I finally left Lys and started making my way to Myr, I did not take the twins with me, much to their chagrin. They got over it well enough once I explained what I needed from them though, and after I promised to visit frequently to check on their progress and reward or punish them as I saw fit. After a week straight of showing them just what sort of positive and negative reinforcement I could come up with, it was obvious that they were both excited at the prospect.

Put frankly, they were going to take over Lys for me from the inside, along with their father as a puppet figurehead. However, unlike the 'Eternal Master' I'd set up in Slaver's Bay, Magister Rogare would never be anything but a puppet thanks to my compulsion. And thanks to the training I'd given his daughters both, the rest of Lys' magisters would soon fall to their compulsion as well. Things would progress well there, but I'd be back in a few months to make sure they were going according to plan and if they were not, I would have to devise a suitable punishment.

For now I'd turned my eyes to Myr, and with Melisandre and Chatana at my side and half my Blessed still with me, we headed into the disputed lands. Luckily the Trinity were not currently at war, and thus the roads moving through the disputed lands were relatively calm. It wasn't until we got closer to Myr that we started noticing a lot more travelers and merchants heading away from the city instead of towards it.

Interrogating one of these travelers enlightened us to the reason for this strange exodus. A Khalasar was currently camped outside Myr's walls as the city prepared the usual tribute so they could buy the Dothraki off. As a result, people who were trying to make their way to Myr through the land routes were turning around and heading back, as even the trek back with low supplies was better than being taken for everything they had and possibly being pressed into slavery by the Dothraki.

I couldn't help myself, a large grin split across my face when I found out. We continued towards Myr without even a pause of course, drawing strange looks from those heading away as we passed them by. Despite spending so much time on Essos, I had still never actually seen a full-fledged Dothraki Khalasar. Oh sure, I'd run into a few Dothraki at times, mostly disgraced braidless warriors who were too beaten and broken to try to regain their valor, usually along the way from Mereen to Valyria.

I'd even drank from a couple so I had a full grasp of their language for the future. But I'd never had a chance to ride confidently into the midst of a full size city-threatening Khalasar. At least, I hadn't until now. This was going to be fantastic.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

We ran into scouts first of course, but our little mounted group was enough to dissuade them from coming at us directly, instead sending them back to where the Khalasar was camped out to deliver news of our approach. We'd just crested a hill and gotten into view of said Khalasar when a khas rode out to meet us, spreading out and encircling our group and forcing us to a stop.

I raised an eyebrow as the Ko, or Captain of the group came to a stop before me, looking me up and down and taking special note of the dragonlings once again perched on my shoulders. After a moment he points his arakh at my face even as several of the riders around us draw and notch arrows in bows. Speaking Dothraki, he spits out, "You! Dismount and order your servants to do the same. You will submit and be brought before Khal Najaho."

Khal Najaho hm? In Dothraki, Najahat meant 'To be Victorious', so I imagined this was where the name came from. How quaint. Smiling widely at the Ko threatening me, I shift my shoulders first to the left and then to the right. The dragonlings perched there react to the stimulus and fly off to land on the opposite shoulders of Melisandre and Chatana. It was a move I'd been practicing frequently for fun and it had taken Melisandre quite a while to get used to the sudden proximity to a mythical fire breathing beast, young as it was.

The flight of the dragonlings draws the attention of the entire khas, and arrows move to track them. That's the moment in which I and my Blessed strike. Chatana and Melisandre are the only ones who remain seated as I leap out of the saddle of the large Stallion I've been using as my mount, the horse staying entirely calm even as I jump from his back.

At the same time, my other Blessed dismount as well and blur forward to speed around the circle of horses that the khas have made. They're almost moving too fast for mortal eyes to see, but the horses still make note of them and it starts a chain reaction as the more than likely well trained beasts still rear back in shock and surprise at the unnatural speed.

To put it bluntly, my Blessed spooked their horses and dozens of Dothraki riders fell from their saddles as horses reared back as far as they could to get away from the phantoms my Blessed left behind. It wasn't nearly enough to keep them down though of course, and moments later arakhs were drawn from sheathes as the Dothraki warriors rose from their undignified ground to take retribution, only to freeze at the sight before them.

After all, I had not been idle in the moments in which my Blessed had acted. When I'd leapt from the back of my mount, I had leapt in the direction of the Ko who had dared threaten me. Now he knelt on the ground facing away from me, one of my hands holding the wrist of the arm that wielded his arakh, the other hand holding onto the base of his thick long warrior braid.

It caused a small pause, but I knew the warriors would attack soon anyways, so before that happened, I spoke up in fluent dothraki down at the captain I was holding hostage.

"We will agree to go before your Khal, but as guests, not prisoners. If you are not willing to abide by that, I and my children will slaughter you and your khas to the last. Hopefully the next Ko will be smarter."

I tighten my grip on his hair braid and his wrist for emphasis, but prepare for a fight anyways. The dothraki around us seem prepared for that same fight, tensing up and preparing to launch forward to bring us down with brutal physical violence. Then, at the last second the Ko speaks up and raises his hand towards his men.

"Wait! Wait! Hold!"

He directs the next part back over his shoulder to me.

"I agree to your terms. I will bring you to Khal Najaho as guests, not prisoners."

Smiling, I open my mouth to tell him he's made the right choice, when a sneering voice sounds out from amongst the crowd calling the captain a coward and urging the warriors surrounding us to attack. Which of course, they all did without another moment of pause, forcing me and my Blessed to defend ourselves. I deal with the cowardly captain first, his use to me dying the moment he fails to control his people. His own arakh is quickly buried in his chest, and then I'm amongst the charging warriors of the khas along with my hybrids as we tear and rip and kill.

At the end, we stand amongst a hundred dead warriors and almost as many dead horses. The major problem with this? We're within eyesight of the camped out Khalasar, and though it's a bit of a distance for mortal eyes to see, the sounds of battle definitely drew a few mortal ears. A horde of screaming dothraki warriors are already bearing towards us at this point.

A slow smile spreads across my face as I roll my shoulders and look at my children, most of which are sporting the same large smile as I am. Only a few moments to speak, only time for a few words. Easy enough to decide what to say in such a case.

"Good. All of the politics and pleasantness in Lys left me feeling all pent up and bloodthirsty. Kill them all."

From there things become a whirlwind of blood, as a dozen Blessed and me stand against an army of thousands. Chatana hangs back to keep a protective eye on the dragonlings and to a lesser extent Melisandre, but for the rest of us, there's nothing but killing and chaos as another army of mortals learns the futility of struggling against monsters.

A hundred bodies turn into a thousand and then two thousand and then I don't bother to keep count, because the number of dead dothraki quickly outnumber the number of living still capable of fighting. At the end of it, I'm holding a large man by the throat and judging by the huge braid that run down his back, along with what seemed to be an honor guard trying to defend the man that could only be his blood riders, I have to assume this is Khal Najaho.

He fought against me valiantly, charging me again and again despite the disabling and debilitating injuries I dealt him casually over the course of our fight. It wasn't until I'd broken both his arms and his legs that he was reduced to lying in the dirt growling and snarling at me. That was where I'd picked him up from and now as I glanced behind him at the size of his braid, I raised my eyebrows and gave him a mocking smile.

"Well now, from the size of your braid and from what I understand of your culture, you really haven't ever experienced a defeat have you? Certainly not one like this."

I chuckle as I glance around, even as he tries to drill holes through me with his glare.

"Well, to be fair, no Khalasar has ever experienced something like this. Yours is the first I've run into after all. Perhaps the next will be more accommodating if I leave you alive to tell the story hm? Only… you cannot cut off your own braid, as is dothraki custom, can you? Very well, let it not be said that I am unwilling to help a man in need."

Holding out a hand, one of my Blessed places a knife in my grasp within moments. Smirking all the while, I reach behind the defeated and broken Khal and shear his braid off at the base of his skull, as cruelly and viciously as I can. Then I knock him out and drag him towards the tents only a few hundred paces away, my people leading our horses behind us.

The women and children of the Khalasar had congregated on the edge of the camp, watching the large battle from a distance. Though to call it a battle was probably doing a disservice to real battles. As I approach with their Khal in my grasp, most back away to make room for me, eyes wide with awe and terror. My eyes quickly lock onto the woman who I peg as most likely to be the Khaleesi given the way the others orbit around her and the look on her face as she takes in the Khal.

I drop him at her feet and then raise my voice so all who stand around us will hear me, "Your Khal lays beaten at my feet. I have taken his valor and laid waste to your warriors and riders. He is the only survivor. I care not what you do with him, but you will leave this place now. Go where you wish, but trouble Myr no more."

Looking to the Khaleesi in particular, I step closer as I catch her eyes and compel her, "You in particular will do your level best to reach Vaes Dothrak. You will tell all who will listen what happened here. You will warn the Dothraki of me. Tell everyone what I look like and who I am. I am Vali the Messenger, and your khalasars will either bow before me or die before me when I meet them in the future."

Her pupils dilate and I know the compulsion takes hold as she nods jerkily and then begins shouting commands. There are no adult males left in the Khalasar to countermand her after all, besides her disgraced husband. As my group makes our way through the camp towards the nearby city of Myr to enter its gates, around us women and children work to pull down tents and pack up supplies as they prepare to leave as I ordered.

Suffice to say, Myr opened its gates before me.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

It took only a day for someone to approach us after we essentially bought out all the rooms of one of Myr's tavern for a night of celebration and entertainment. This time I was not led before a Council of Magisters for an interrogation, though I knew it existed in Myr from my research. Instead the Council sent a spokesperson to beg an audience with me instead.

Huh, I suppose I should have found a threat to Lys to deal with before stepping through their gates, if this was the sort of welcome I got. I graciously allowed the magister sent by the council to come before me, sitting at the head of the largest table in the tavern me and mine had commandeered and smiling amicably as the man approached.

"Dragonlord, it is a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me."

Raising an eyebrow, I let out a pleasant chuckle, "Well, it would be quite rude for me not to yes? Who am I to refuse you a meeting within your own city hmm?"

Disarmed by my welcoming demeanor, the man gives a sheepish smile, "You are of course the man who destroyed a Khalasar that sat on our doorstep and threatened our very existence if we did not give in to their demands. While Myr has gotten used to the Dothraki's methods, it does not change the fact that the barbarians practice a form of barely polite robbery, and you have prevented that entirely."

My smile morphs into a toothy grin, "Yes, well I offered them peace and they declined to accept. The results of spitting in the face of my generosity speak for themselves I do think."

The Magister nods in emphatic agreement, "Yes, we Magisters of Myr quite agree. That's actually part of why I'm here. Myr wishes to forge a strong bond with the sole Dragonlord of a rising Valyria. We believe that starts by asking how we can possibly repay you for your actions outside our walls in defense of us."

"Ah, of course. Well I wish I could claim it was out of the kindness of my heart and such kindness needs no repayment, but I'm sure we both know the world does not work that way. Debts must be repaid mustn't they? Luckily, I already know how we can equalize things and become the best of friends. Tell me, had you and the other magisters decided on an agreeable tribute for the Dothraki Horde sitting outside your walls, before I dealt with them?"

He blinks at that before nodding slowly, clearly not connecting the dots very fast. Not the brightest bulb amongst his peers I imagined, "… Yes?"

Pleasant smile still fixed on my face, I gesture expansively, "Then the course forward is obvious. Take the tribute and give half of it to me."

Comprehension finally dawns on his face, "Ah, that… that might be feasible yes."

He's clearly hedging as he continues, "I would of course have to bring the idea before the Council, I do not have the power to simply agree on their behalf unfortunately. That said, I imagine they will consider half the tribute more than reasonable, considering the alternative would have been all the tribute."

I chuckle and raise a hand stopping him as he rises, preparing to leave, "Of course, but I wasn't done."

Now he starts to look concerned, sliding back into his chair at my urging, "O-oh?"

"Indeed, after all, the Dothraki will return eventually, won't they? In fact, they may be less inclined to accept a reasonable amount for the next tribute, after what happened to this Khalasar. I would have to think that I had caused such a hardship on Myr through my actions. Would you like to hear my solution?"

Blinking, the magister nods cautiously.

"It seems rather simple to me. I already intended to leave my current companions here when I departed for Tyrosh. A ship should be arriving within the next few days to carry me on, but the rest of my Blessed… the ones who dealt with the Khalasar outside your walls so effectively, will remain behind to set up a temple in worship to our god, the Almighty One."

I pause and the magister pipes up, a slightly humorous, but mostly polite tone to his voice, "Yes, we have heard of your god. I am told we have him to thank for our Red Priests becoming Violet Escorts."

Letting out a snort at the joke, I can only shrug, "It seems so. The Almighty One does not work exclusively through me, so I could not tell you more about that. However, getting back to my… suggestion. With my Blessed already in your city and more due to arrive in the coming months, it seems simple enough to trust in them to deal with the next Khalasar and the ones after that as well. In return, you will give another half of the current tribute you've decided upon to the Temple of the Almighty One."

Silence reigns for a few moments before the magister replies once more, "An interesting proposition Dragonlord. As I said, I must take it to the Council before agreeing to anything. If I may take my leave?"

I smile and nod, but not before throwing out one more comment, "Make sure they know that this offer has a limited lifespan. There will be no consequences if they decide against it of course, but if they wish to turn around and approach my followers for help the next time a Khalasar shows up on their door step, it will be three quarters of the tribute instead of half. I am sure you and your peers will make the right choice."

After a moment to digest that, he nods and bows slightly before departing from my presence. I watch him go with a smile on my face, until Melisandre approaches from behind me and moves to refill my wine cup. I catch her wrist as she does so and look up at her as she looks down at me with trepidation.

"H-has your slave displeased you Master?"

Still smiling, but in a way that doesn't quite reach my eyes, I slowly rise from my chair. My other hand comes up and my fingers trail across the red head's cheek as I respond, "No darling, you haven't. In fact, I was quite pleased with how you conducted yourself during the slaughter yesterday. I think you've earned a reward. Shall we retire to my room?"

Her eyes widen in shocked delight and she nods frantically before following closely behind me as I lead her into a more private setting. As soon as the door shuts behind her she shucks off her already revealing purple garments and exposes her voluptuous body to my gaze. If the twins could best be described as young, nubile, and pretty, Melisandre was the slightly older more filled out and also more experienced model.

She had a seductive smile on her face as she approached me, but her every movement still conveyed submission and obedience as she stopped just short of grabbing my shirt, instead looking up at me with questioning eyes.

"How may your slave serve you Master?"

Smirking, I gesture at the ground before me, "Kneel. I'm sure you know what to do from there."

The woman sinks to her knees and I'm left to look at her beautiful blood red hair as she fishes my cock out of its confines and slowly strokes it up and down with skillful fingers. Her tongue comes out and plays with the tip as she does most of the work with hands that have clearly touched a cock in this way before. She's doing quite well and I watch her with approving eyes as my length quickly rises and hardens, thickening in her grasp.

Eventually she moves her tongue down from the tip and along the underside of my shaft, causing me to let out an appreciative grunt as my hand instinctively comes to a rest in her hair. She seems to take that as a suggestion on what to do next, as her mouth suddenly envelopes the crown of my prick and then goes further down still. She bobs up and down even as her tongue continues to go to work, swirling around me in such a delightful way.

Grinning down at her, my hand in her hair tightens into a fist, though I continue to let her control the pace, "Mmm, my pet is a good cocksucker, aren't you? Seems to me that you've been trained, but knowing your true age I have to wonder just how often you sought out more over the years to keep your skills up. Perhaps you just feel more complete with a cock in your mouth, is that it?"

My filthy little slut just moans, eyes opening and looking up at me as she sucks lewdly on the half of my cock that is partially down her throat. That's a sign of agreement with my debasing comments if I've ever seen one, so I take hold of her fiery locks with both of my hands and begin to thrust into the former red priestess' willing mouth cunt, her lips pressed tightly around my shaft and her tongue continuing its work, even as I prevent her from breathing with every deep thrust into her throat.

She's very good, I can't deny that, and its mere minutes before I feel my first release fast approaching. I pull her face into my crotch without warning and shoot long spurts of white hot cum right down her gullet. To Melisandre's credit, she dutifully swallows every last drop, barely struggling at first until my release starts to last beyond her current air supply and she begins to twitch as she starts to run out of precious oxygen.

Her hands come up to rest on my thighs, but she doesn't push me back, catching herself before she does something that might upset me, even unconsciously. Instead, she rides out the rest of my voluminous cumshot, frantically swallowing as quickly as she can until I finally release her and pull out of her throat, leaving her gasping with wide eyes.

Smiling slightly as my grip on her hair turns into a gentle petting, "Ah, had a bit of trouble there didn't you love? I suppose my usual playmates are made of a bit sterner stuff…"

I don't mention the fact that lovely ladies like Chatana or my newest acquisitions, the twins, don't actually need to breath given what I've turned them into. That's the right choice from the looks of things, as my light adomishment lights up a fire in Melisandre's gaze as she looks up at me, her voice coming out raspy, but still clear, "I'll learn master. I'll do better next time."

Raising an eyebrow at that causes the poor girl to realize her mistake only a moment later, her eyes widening as she shakes her head, "Y-your slaves apologizes, she did not mean to…"

I cut her off by tightening my grasp of her hair once more and tilting her head up so I can look directly into her eyes, "I forgive you my darling… but you still must be punished for that lapse. I know how much you want me to fuck you. I see the looks you give me. I wonder, has your goddess given you a divine mandate in that regard?"

Chuckling, I cut off any response from the woman kneeling at my feet, "It does not matter. The fact is, right now I will not give you what you want, the fullness you might feel from our copulation. You have not earned the right just yet."

Melisandre's eyes fall, "Your slave understands Master. She will continue to strive to earn your adoration and affection."

Releasing her hair, I step away and straighten up my clothing, "Yes, to that end, you will continue to follow my orders entirely. Which means when I tell you that you are to stay here in Myr with my Ravia and the rest of my Blessed, I expect not a word of complaint."

Her eyes widen in despair, but her mouth remains shut as I continue.

"Captain Mo should arrive in Myr's port soon and when he does, I will depart with his vessel to Tyrosh. As I said, you will stay here and serve my Ravia to make sure that our plans in Myr progress at a reasonable pace. Follow her orders as you would mine, treat her as you do me. She is your Mistress and her words are my words. Serve her well, and if she has praise for you when I return, we will revisit giving you your true desire. Is that understood pet?"

I receive emphatic nodding, "Y-yes! Your slave understands perfectly. Your slave will do everything the Mistress Ravia tells her, without fail. Your slave will make you proud."

Grinning, I settle down into a chair by a table that holds several unopened letters on it, correspondence from my growing empire, "Good. Now leave me. Go find your mistress."

As Melisandre slips back into her scandalous get up, I watch her go out of the corner of one eye. Soon enough, I would more than likely fully… convert her. Until then, I was having more fun stringing her along with her knowing full well what I was doing than I would just fucking her and being done with it.

Some women had to be savored and saved for the right time.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 278 AC**

 **Westeros – King's Landing – Small Council Chambers**

King Aerys II Targaryen sat at the head of his small council with a pinched expression on his face, "What was that?"

His Master of Whispers, the eunuch Varys bowed and spoke in careful, even, and noncommittal tones as he repeated himself, "There are disturbing rumors coming in from Essos your grace. Some are too crazy to believe, but too many voices hold the same story. The reports of dragons are more than likely incorrect as dragons have been gone for so long..."

Pausing for a moment to formulate his next words, Varys continues with, "However, I have been able to confirm the other more unbelievable reports as almost certainly true. Valyria is rising from the ashes of the Doom and trade to and from the Free Cities to the former peninsula is said to be on the rise. The red sky that is talked of in the histories is said to be clear and blue for the first time since the Freehold's destruction."

"… And speaking of destruction, the First Daughter is indeed gone. Reports of what exactly caused Volantis' demise are rather fanciful and contradictory, but the kernel of truth I've been able to make certain of is that Volantis is indeed gone. They seem to have had a run in with whoever is rebuilding Valyria and its nearby cities."

The Small Council sits silently for a moment, before the current Master of Laws, Symond Staunton speaks up with a scoff, "And? I don't see what this has to do with Westeros. Volantis is gone and Valyria is rising. It seems we've traded one Free City for another. What of it?"

That gets an immediate derisive response from the Hand of the King. Tywin Lannister turns his impressive glare upon the Master of Laws as he drawls out, "If you cannot see the difference between the Free Cities of Essos and Old Valyria reborn, then I do not understand how you possibly gained the position of Master of Laws. I find myself suddenly questioning your appointment far more ardently than before."

Symond's face goes red in a combination of anger and embarrassment but before he can reply Lucerys Velaryon, the Master of Ships, pipes up, "Indeed. I've heard some rumors myself, mostly from sailors with loose tongues in the harbor. Supposedly, Slaver's Bay has already pledged allegiance to this new Valyria. This could be the start of a second coming, and that could affect Westeros very easily in very dire ways, depending how far this new Valyria goes."

Ser Gerold Hightower, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and a man of few words when it came to the politics of the Small Council, chose that moment to speak, "Thoros of Myr spoke of this."

Much to his chagrin, Aerys had been thinking along the same lines, and as his gaze snapped to the stoic Lord Commander, he found that the knight clearly knew he had and also knew that he was one of the few men who could get away with mentioning such a thing in the King's presence. Aerys knew that Gerold was too loyal to mock his King. He was merely speaking fact.

Facts Aerys was forced to acknowledge, as he finally spoke again, "Indeed. What was it he said before I had him put to death? Valyria will doom us all?"

Varys clears his throat as he corrects the King, "Doom comes from Valyria were his exact words I believe, your majesty."

Tywin scoffs as he interjects, "The Red Priest also claimed darkness was moving to swallow Essos whole and that our only salvation rested in looking to the Lord of Light for guidance and forsaking the Seven. I'm sure we all know what has happened there. If we'd listened to Thoros of Myr, we'd all be dead by suicide or servants of this new Lady of Illumination, and driven to insanity by the transition."

"Yes, Volantis is gone. Yes, Valyria's rise is a concern to be watched carefully. But Westeros is as strong and united as it has ever been. A wise king sits the Iron Throne with a powerful heir and the Seven Kingdoms are prosperous. Should we keep watch on the events of Essos? Yes. But Winter is coming as the Starks are fond of saying and we have no idea how long this one will last. That is where the lion's share of our attention must be turned. I am sure our King agrees."

King Aerys II Targaryen could do nothing more than nod slowly and respond in the affirmative, even as on the inside he was reminded once again who held the power in this damnable chamber. Given enough time, Tywin's words would have been his own because at the end of the day they were the right response. But the man had once again preempted him and been the sensible voice of reason, raising his esteem further above Aerys in the eyes of the other Small Council members.

As the council meeting ended, Aerys remained seated, quietly grinding his teeth together as he stewed in his own self-pity. He'd tried to turn things around with Duskendale. He had wanted to show that he was King and Tywin was nothing more than his Hand, by dealing with the damnable rebels himself. Instead, all he had to show for it was several months of humiliating captivity. He'd had to be fucking rescued like a maiden in distress.

Even the death of every member of House Darklyn hadn't been enough to assuage his fury. Mostly because even those deaths had not been enough to recover from the further damage done to his image in the eyes of his people. Tywin played lip service to Aerys by calling him a wise king, but in reality, everyone knew the truth. Aerys even knew the truth at this point. It was Tywin, all Tywin.

The real question now was simple. Trying to remind Tywin of his place and show the people of Westeros that Aerys was the sole ruler of the Seven Kingdoms had failed. All that was left was revenge. Tywin had taken something of value from Aerys. What could Aerys take in turn? He would have to think on this…

 **A/N: So there it is~ Setting up a protection racket for Myr headed by Chatana, and a small bonus look at the Small Council in King's Landing reacting to the events of the past several months. Most may not understand the significance of this next bit, but I can tell you with confidence that next chapter will take place in Year 279 AC :D**

 **Please let me know what you think in a review, I continue to thrive on feedback, and your guys' reviews are what's been inspiring me to write a bit faster recently!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Woo chapter 12! And finally some interaction with elements from Westeros! Hope you all enjoy!**

 **EDIT 4:02 PM 6/1/16: Fixed an error in which I gave the Dornish escort fleet cannons and thus gunpowder. Mah bad and thank you for all the reviews correcting me =)**

 **Year 279 AC**

 **Essos – Myr's Harbor**

I stand on the dock as the ship that will carry me to Tyrosh pulls into port. Unlike with Chatana, Captain Quhuru Mo is not one to jump off his ship with hybrid speed in order to wrap his legs around me and give me a big wet one. I would more than likely be unhappy if he was. Instead, he makes sure his vessel is anchored properly and barks out several loud commands to his crew, before disembarking and coming to a stop before me.

"Messenger! It is good to be in your presence once more." The dark skinned captain bows formally at the waist, before straightening up. The smile on his face only grows when a reptilian-like head creeps over my shoulder to peer at him.

"Ah, I never doubted what I was told of course, but it is quite exciting to see it in person. That is one of the dragons you hatched in Valyria, yes? What am I to call it?"

Reaching up to stroke the dragon's scales, I smile, "Yes, this is one of the two. My Ravia has the other, and I expect she will make an excellent rider for him once he has reached maturity. As for their names, you may call this one Niklaus. Ravia's is called Elijah."

My dragons were hatchlings no more, now far too large to each rest on my shoulders comfortably. The one I'd named Niklaus was currently latched onto me by climbing across my back, his wings folded in and his tail sliding around my waist to maintain his hold. Given their growth, it made sense to me to pass off Elijah to Chatana before I left.

After all, Myr was the city with which I was taking the slowest approach, building up their dependence on me through my religion, instead of the strategy I was employing in Lys with the twins. Having a dragon housed within their city could only help to convince the Myrmen that they were better off as my friends than my enemies, and eventually that their more appropriate place was in service to me, knelt at my feet as they had once kneeled to the Valyria of times past.

As for giving my dragon's the same names as my brothers, I had originally left them unnamed entirely. As they grew though, it seemed appropriate to have a way to identify them more effectively, especially when I looked towards a future where many more dragons would eventually be hatched back in Old Valyria. The names were certainly strange to all who heard them, but the majority of people who got to learn how to address the dragons were my Blessed, so the overall reaction was calm acceptance, even if they did not fully understand my naming choices.

Quhuru Mo is the same way, pausing for only a moment to assimilate this knowledge, before nodding agreeably, "Very well then Messenger. I see that you have some things to be loaded onto the ship. We are ready to head back out immediately, as you originally stated, or we can set anchor for a day or two. It is up to you, however, either way I think there is an issue you will wish to address on board right now."

I raise an eyebrow at that, "Our plans remain unchanged, as soon as the crew is done loading up the crates behind me, we may set sail. As for this issue that must be addressed, explain as we go to address it."

He bows slightly again before turning and leading me onto the ship. The story he weaves is not truly surprising to me, more of a pleasant confirmation than anything else, as I'm led down into the brig where two dark-skinned 'Summer Islanders' are trussed up and chained under the watch of loyal hybrid eyes.

We come to a stop before them and they glare balefully, their eyes locking onto my specifically with an intense hatred that does actually surprise me a bit.

Quhuru gestures down at them, "As I said, these two along with several others attempted to infiltrate the crews of our fleet when we were preparing to depart from the Isles. They first tried to gain work as sailors, but the recruiter could tell something was off with them… regardless of the fact that our crew are all followers of the Almighty One anyways, not regular gutter trash."

"After the issue was brought to my attention, I had every man who felt fake to our enhanced senses hunted down and captured. Many fought back with surprising skill and obvious training. Because of this, most of them had to be killed. These two were the only ones who lived, but I thought you might wish to question them yourself. They have not spoken a word to us despite the work of one of our best interrogators."

I smile down at the prisoners, "Indeed, I'm not surprised to hear that. Nor am I surprised to hear that many of them fought so well. These are Faceless Men, my dear Captain. Assassins who have obviously been sent to assassinate me. I doubt they will talk, but the last one spouted off to me before I killed him, so perhaps they have just been waiting for my presence."

Raising an eyebrow and smiling, I stare the prisoners down for a long moment before one finally speaks up, voice measured and clipped.

"Valar Morghulis."

I smile thinly, "Yes, that's what your peer said when he failed in his task as well. All men must die, hm? Who am I to disagree?"

Punctuating that statement, I pull my sword out of my sheath and thrust it through the soft flesh of the Faceless Man's neck and into the wood behind him. He chokes and gurgles for a few moments and then dies. Pulling my blade free, I turn towards his fellow with a slight smile and a raised eyebrow.

This Faceless Man is not nearly as composed or calm. His stolen features twist angrily at my casual disregard for his comrade's death.

"Valar Morghulis abomination. I go to join my god, but my brothers shall finish my work. You cannot escape death forever."

That gets a pause from me, "Oh? How interesting."

Rising my blade, caked as it is in the lifeblood of his dead peer, I place it under his chin and push up so he's forced to look up at me, "I understand now, more than I had before. You lot haven't been contracted to kill me. You're doing it out of your own volition. You've decided my very existence offends your oh so delicate sensibilities and your entire order has set out of its own accord to end me. Am I right?"

His expression twitches once before he smooths it over and becomes much like his comrade, expressionless and outwardly calm. It's far too late though, and I think we both know that. Grinning widely, I find myself getting a bit more excited than usual. My eyes shift into black and gold and veins pop up around their edges. My teeth elongate as rows of vampire fangs along with sharp wolf canines replace my normal human teeth.

In that moment, I am the perfect picture of a monster and even this assassin with his magics and his training and his stolen face rears back a bit at my true face. I just give a wide grin, showing off more of my rows of long sharp teeth.

"I feel like I'll be getting the chance to repeat this often over the coming months, as I lay waste to your order and decimate your ranks. I told the one I killed in Lys this as well, and I suppose I shall tell you here and now, because in the future I probably won't waste the breathe. I am no man. I am beyond man. I am mortal's better in every way. I am over four millennia old and better than you has tried and failed to end me."

I lean in just a bit, still grinning as I slowly slide the tip of my blade into the second Faceless Man's throat, speaking over his choked gurgles as he dies slowly and painfully.

"The truth is you do not have the capability to end me. None on this small world do. Your mission and the mission of your brothers who come after you is all for naught. I cannot be killed. I am, after all, immortal."

My little speech has exactly the effect I'd hoped for, as the dying man before me accepts the truth of what I'm saying and I relish the anguish and absolute despair in his eyes, just before the light goes out and he finally expires.

I let out a sigh and my facial features relax back to normal as I pull back and take my sword with me, glancing to Quhuru Mo, "Burn the bodies and throw the ash into the water. Spread word to the crew as well. Anymore of these fake men found are to be killed and disposed of the same way immediately. I will have to pen a letter to be copied and spread amongst the Faithful, as widespread as we have now become. These Faceless Men will try to strike from every direction, but we, blessed as we are by the Almighty One, are uniquely suited for sussing them out."

The Captain nods and bows slightly at the waist, seeming suitably awed by the display he just witnessed. He moves to carry out my orders, before pausing slightly, "Messenger, may I ask a question?"

I gesture for him to do so.

He hesitates, brow furrowing in confusion and face twisting into a frown, "What is a… 'millennia'?"

Blinking, I think back to what I'd said. Huh, I suppose I'd slipped into English when I'd said that. Frowning as well now, I answer a bit absently, "A millennia is a thousand years. Huh, do you think he didn't understand me either? That's a bit… disappointing. Kind of takes a bit away from the rant doesn't it? … How aggravating."

The side of Quhuru's mouth quirks up ever so slightly as I mockingly bemoan my word choice, "Having watched from the side, I can confidently say the severity of the rest of what you were saying was not diminished in the slightest by your one nonsensical made up word."

I glance at the dark-skinned islander sharply before snorting and cracking a smile, "Getting a bit snarky there Captain. To think, all it took was me executing two assassins in front of you, to get you to lighten up."

Shaking my head, I wipe my blade off on the clothes of the corpses in front of me, and then return the Valyrian Steel to its sheathe and turn to walk away, leaving Quhuru to deal with the mess and carry out my instructions.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 279 AC**

 **Essos – Tyrosh**

Where Lys was more opulent and almost elvish in their looks and their bearing, Tyrosh was probably the more outlandish of the two places. As we sailed into port, the whole place was in one word, colorful. I was even able to tell the visiting ships from Tyrosh's own sizable fleet, simply because much like their hair, the Tyroshi painted their masts with vibrant dyes from all shades of the rainbow.

Though of course, I didn't need that distinction to tell the difference between the boats in Tyrosh's bay that belonged to me, and the boats that did not. After all, the fleet I'd had Quhuru gather for me from the Summer Isles was entirely made up of Swan Ships, and the unique Summer Islander ship design stood out prominently across the harbor. Masquerading as merchant ships with holds full of wares to sell in order to lend credence to the claim, they would have been trickling into Tyrosh for weeks now, disgorging crews of my hybrids into the city while they awaited my arrival.

Tyrosh didn't know it yet, but the city had a sword to the back of its neck and a knife to its throat. It was up to me to apply pressure where it would hurt the most, and send the city to its knees in new found service to the Almighty One and of course, me as well. Which at the end of the day, meant I needed a meeting with Tyrosh's sole leader, the Archon.

Arranging the meeting was not hard, after all, I am who I am and at this point, I represented not only an expanding new religion, but also a growing revived nation as well. Like with Lys and Myr, those in power in Tyrosh needed to feel me out. Unlike with Lys and Myr however, the Archon of Tyrosh did not send a representative, nor did he summon me directly before him.

Instead, I was scheduled to meet with him through the normal channels, something that drew a raised eyebrow from me, but in the long run, did not truly matter much. The end result would be the same. To add on to Tyrosh's clear desire to not treat me as their neighbors had, was the admittedly intelligent demand that I leave my dragon out of my meeting with the Archon, and go in both alone and unarmed.

Once again, I was more than willing to accommodate them, given that the power I laid claim to was largely internal, not external. I did not need a dragon nor did I need a sword or even an army to do as I pleased. If I wanted, I could have come to Tyrosh without even clothes on my back and feasted upon it's nobility before setting myself up as its undisputed ruler, and there would have been nothing anyone could have done about it.

That mental imagery was responsible for the wide grin on my face when I finally met with the Archon in a small room fashioned like an office of sorts. I wasn't surprised at the venue, given what I knew about Tyrosh's history as a military outpost. The position of Archon had never been that of a king or even a lord, but that of an official left to oversee operations for the Valyrian Freehold. Thus, it made sense that he would spend his days behind a desk rather than in a throne room.

That is why I did not wait for him to react to my presence, before settling down into the chair across from him and lounging about. After all, we were not equals. He glanced up from his work for a moment before looking back down and speaking without making eye contact, a clear attempt at a power play.

"So you are the dragonlord I've heard so much about over the last several months. You've certainly been moving quickly."

My eyebrow rises, but my smile remains on my face as I answer him, "I must move fast, for I am guided by a higher purpose. I consider dragonlord the least of my titles. My preference leans towards Messenger of the Almighty One, though I'll admit it's a bit wordy and the lazy will always fall back on shorter epithets."

Now the Archon looks at me, eyes boring into my own. I think he's trying to be intimidating, but the circumstances deny him that right. Not only am I who I am, his hair is fucking lime green and the contrast does not do well against his olive skin tone. It's all I can do to refrain from laughing at his appearance.

"Is that so? Well than 'Messenger'. What message do you have for me? Have you come from your seat in a reborn Valyria to draw Tyrosh back into the hold? Is that why you visit us only after Lys and Myr, because my own title has misled you and you believe we will simply just accept the yoke back around our necks?"

I blink at the short rant. Is that what all of this has been about? Tyrosh felt snubbed by me because out of the trinity, I'd visited them last? They were insulted, so they looked to insult me in turn. That was rather… amusing to say the least. A bit pitiable as well. Leaning back in my chair a bit, I chuckle lightly.

"Ah, my dear Archon I apologize. I had no idea that the Tyroshi were so insecure, though I suppose I should have suspected. You've taken the wrong meaning from my actions. Where I come from in fact, we actually save the best for last, more often than not. I arrived in Tyrosh after Lys and Myr because I'm making it my home away from home here on the west coast of Essos. While I shall visit Lys and Myr quite often over the next few years, this is the city I will live in and operate out of, where I will further my plans."

The Archon is silent as he digests my words. I can tell they don't do much to set him at ease or appease his offended delicate sensibilities. Eventually, he responds, focusing on the last bit of what I'd said, "And what are these plans?"

My grin is wide and rather predatory as I respond frankly, "Piracy, of course."

That gets an even more visceral reaction from the Archon as his eyes widen in anger and he stands to plant his hands on the desk before him, his tone low but dangerous, "Excuse me?"

I shrug as a chuckle escapes my lips, "Of course we won't call it that. Privateering is the polite word yes? Ministry is another I would use, as of course it's all to be done in the name of the Almighty One. In the end though, it will be piracy plain and simple. Focused on Westerosi ships only though I think. I have no desire to upset Essosi sailors. I consider them as much my subjects as you are after all."

The anger is still there, but it has new friends in confusion and just a hint of worry in the Archon's expression, "You're insane."

Smiling wickedly, I shrug and steal another quote, "Something else we say where I come from. The line between insanity and genius is quite thin indeed."

Gritting his teeth, the Archon gestures angrily, "Coming in here unarmed and demanding the Tyroshi participate in piracy is not what I would call genius. The height of folly is a better way to phrase it. Guards!"

The last word is shouted and I stand and turn as the guards outside the door enter at his call. Before the Archon says anything, I lock eyes with the mortal men and speak up.

"Ignore the dear Archon, go back to your posts and forget this."

As the compelled guards do as I say, I turn back to a shocked Archon and point my finger at him, "And you will sit down and be quiet."

His ass plops back down into the chair as I place my own hands on the desk between us and lean towards him. My entire countenance changes in that moment, going from care free to threatening and altogether dangerous, "Surely there must have been rumors? Did you think I would really walk in here defenseless? Did you think you were safe because your pathetic guards were right outside? I am my god's avatar and while you may scoff and refuse to believe me all you want, it does not change the facts. I am beyond you my little archon. I am beyond anyone in this pathetic city, in this entire pathetic world."

As suddenly as I became threatening, I switch back to care free, my hands leaving his desk as a wide smile crosses my face and I begin to circle around it to come to a stop behind him, "Ah but don't worry, I intend to give you a gift. You are elected by the wealthy of this city yes? I imagine that leaves you somewhat beholden to them."

My hands come to rest on his shoulders, even as the Archon continues to be unable to leave his seat. I lean down to speak in his ear, "Well, I'm sure you'll be glad to know that no more will you have to cater to their whims to maintain your position. The only one you will have to keep happy is me. Tyrosh will serve me and me alone, and you will lead them in that service. Not because you are an Archon and the Archons once served the Valyrian Freehold. Not because I am the only dragonlord alive as well as the one who brought the Valyria back to life."

Tearing my wrist open, I force it into Archon's mouth, provoking him to suddenly struggle and choke as I force my blood down his throat and continue on with my little monologue, "No, you and Tyrosh will serve me because I am stronger than you and that is the way the world works. The strong rule over and protect the weak, and in exchange, the weak serve. And you will be serving for quite a long time."

I punctuate that last statement by snapping the Archon's neck and letting his bloody face fall forward onto the desk in front of him as he dies. Then, I move back around and settle back into my own chair, waiting calmly for the ruler of Tyrosh to come back to life. Once he did, I would bring him under my control and in turn he would bring the movers and shakers of Tyrosh under his control.

The port city would serve me in all but name within the week and from there I would turn it towards my desire to engage in a bit of piracy. There wasn't any real reason behind it. I was largely just killing time until the Tournament at Harrenhal. Yeah, I should probably deal with the House of Black and White in Braavos at some point in the next couple years as well, but for the moment the Faceless Men were the hunted and my hybrids were the hunters. Already word had trickled in that some of the assassins had been caught in Tyrosh before we even arrived, my orders to kill anyone who stank of their magic preceding my arrival in the city.

They could wait. For now, I wanted to poke and prod at Westeros and the Seven Kingdoms there. If they didn't know about me yet, I wanted them to learn. I wanted them to fear and hate and prepare, only for their preparations to be derailed entirely by a Mad King and an angry berserker of a Baratheon.

After all, it wasn't very sporting to not give them fair warning, now was it?

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 279**

 **The Narrow Sea**

Ashara Dayne was not a fool. She was a noblewoman and thus a bit sheltered, but she was intelligent enough to recognize her own beauty as she'd grown into the young woman she was now. Men looked at her and she very clearly caught the desire in their eyes. Her suitors were numerous even as her father kept from making a definitive match, more than likely looking for the one that would best suit their House as was the way of things.

To that end, when word had reached them that the Elia Martell's mother had managed to secure a marriage between her and Rhaegar Targaryen, heir to the Seven Kingdoms, the decision to have Ashara serve as the older girl's lady-in-waiting had been an easy one to make. House Dayne was if nothing else, always willing to raise their prestige in the eyes of their peers. Her brother achieved that through his exemplary service as a Knight of the Kingsguard, and now she would serve it at the soon-to-be Princess' side as her lady-in-waiting.

However, their mode of travel from Sunspear to King's Landing did not make Ashara happy. Even in Starfall they'd heard rumors of the growing problems of piracy in the waters between Essos and Westeros. Ashara would much have preferred to travel to King's Landing by land, however there were fears that Elia, delicate flower that she was, would not do well on such a trip given its length.

So instead here they were on a ship surrounded by an honor guard fleet to make sure Elia got to her destination. As the weeks had gone by, Ashara had managed to relax, coming to the same rationale that Doran Martell must have, that even the most cocky of pirates would not go up against ten to one odds. She'd gotten to know Elia better, despite the woman having several years on her, and it looked like everything might just go smoothly, both on the trip to King's Landing, and in the capital of the Seven Kingdoms itself.

So when a ship was sighted on the horizon, Ashara thought nothing of it, dismissing it as readily as both Elia and the Captain did. When it continued on a collision course for the fleet, the Captain began taking notice, and directed two of the fleet's ten ships to move into its way so that it would change course. Only, that did not happen, as the three ships got closer and closer together, until suddenly men-shaped blurs were moving off of the singular ship and onto the other two boats, and screams began sounding out, along with what seemed to be battle.

It would seem that this one pirate ship was indeed willing to go up against ten to one odds, and while the Captain remained confident at first, Ashara and Elia were treated to an unbelievable sight as three more of the ten ships in the fleet went in and were summarily quieted by the single pirate ship, before it continued its path towards them, the silent and motionless boats behind it making the entire situation far more disturbing.

Things looked to be laid to rest however, when the Captain finally made a better decision, and had scorpions wheeled onto the decks of the remaining five ships and aimed at the approaching pirate vessel. The ends of the projectiles loaded into the siege weapons were lit and dozens of large flaming arrows were launched at the wooden ship.

Many missed, but enough hit that the ship caught flame almost immediately, and burned fast. A second volley was fired shortedly after the first, but the pirate's vessel was already falling apart a surprisingly impressive rate, as if no one onboard was even trying to put out the fires. There was a cheer that went up from the sailors around them, and Ashara knew that her own face was probably mirroring the relief that she saw on Elia's when she glanced over at the older woman.

That relief was short lived though, as someone called out that they were seeing strange fast moving shapes in the water. Ashara could only watch in muted horror as the sinking boat seemed to disgorge a dozens of these dark shapes, which then spread out, heading right at the five ships left in the escort fleet. They moved too fast to escape from, and so all the Dornish Sailors could do was wait to see what was to come.

What came were monsters shaped like men, who leapt clean out of the water and onto the decks of the ships around them. Neither Elia or Ashara had time to react beyond rearing back away from the railing as one of those monsters landed right next to them, and in one casual swipe removed the Captain's head from his body.

Neither noblewoman could keep the high pitched scream from escaping their lips at the sight, but that just drew the monster's attention to them. He was a dark-skinned man, and if Ashara was thinking more clearly, she would have probably noted that he looked to hail from the Summer Isles. Of course, she wasn't and neither was the Princess, both of them stumbling backwards only to fall on their asses as the man-shaped creature walked up to them.

Leaning in as they began to hyperventilate, his nostrils flared as if tasting their scent before finally he spoke, his lips curling in a mocking grin, "Stay."

Ashara was an intelligent girl, and she'd been told Elia was clever and witty despite her fragile health but neither of the two women had anything to say to that, nor did they make any efforts to move from where they'd fallen, beyond shifting slightly to huddle closer together. Elia's eyes squeezed tightly shut, but Ashara's were wide open as both sat frozen in terror, the ships around them filled with the sounds of a slaughter.

Eventually they were pulled up off the ground by a few of the monsters and brought before the one that seemed to be in charge. He was dark skinned as well, but his eyes were black and gold and blood caked his chin right below where fangs descended from his upper row of teeth. Those unnatural inhuman eyes took in the sight of the two frightened noblewomen. Elia shied away from the hungry look, but Ashara had calmed ever so slightly.

She watched the way the demon's eyes trailed over their bodies before he spoke, "Well, it isn't so often we run into such beautiful specimens out here in the water. You know, there was no treasure on any of the boats. Many of the sailors even fought more like soldiers. This fleet was escorting something somewhere, but what could it be? I suspect you know, don't you?"

Elia was nonresponsive, so it fell to Ashara to hold her head up high and reply, "W-we don't know what you're talking about."

That gets a raised eyebrow, "Oh you don't do you? You two aren't anyone special then, hm? Then I suppose your looks alone are your value to us. Based on that, you should sell well at the auction back in the Free Cities. Your friend on the other hand probably won't, she looks far too fragile. I'm not even sure she'll survive the trip there."

The words, coyly said, strike deep fear in Ashara's heart, even as Elia whimpers, showing she's at least hearing what's being said. Swallowing thickly, Ashara changes tact, "Please. I am Lady Ashara Dayne of House Dayne and this is Princess Elia Martell of Dorne. O-our families would pay much to get us back."

The grin on the smug bastard looming over them gets wider as she speaks. After a moment, he straightens up and nods to a nearby comrade, "Take these women down below, I'm sure they have personal quarters. Watch them. We set sail for Tyrosh. The Messenger will decide what is to be done with the lady and the princess."

 **XxScenebreakxX**

Much to the surprise of both noblewomen, the next two weeks were not the terrible torturous hell they were each expecting. Instead, they found themselves treated as befit their station. If they weren't locked inside their cabin, Ashara could have even fooled herself into thinking nothing was wrong and they were still on their way to King's Landing.

The monsters in men's skin were perfect gentlemen, though she knew when they claimed to be merely watching the women to make sure they weren't trying anything funny, that they were really leering at them. But that was all they did, simply look. There were no suggestive comments, and no aggressive moves made towards either woman's body. Their leader, the dark-skinned man who had introduced himself as Captain Quhuru Mo of the Summer Isles when he first came to check on them after everything, treated Elia like the delicate flower she was, while treating Ashara herself almost as an equal, never speaking down to her.

It was more than she got from the men in her life, and wasn't that disturbing, that she could find more respect and appreciation for her intelligence over her body from pirates than from knights? Then again, these were no ordinary pirates, that much was obvious. They might act the picture of perfect politeness now, but Ashara would never forget what she saw them do, nor their true demonic faces hidden under the more congenial human ones.

Neither would Elia, the poor thing. Despite the princess being Ashara's clear senior, it was Ashara who had had to take charge and become Elia's rock after what they'd witnessed. It was her who got Elia to eat and drink after the demon captain had made thinly veiled comments towards the consequences that would come from the Princess' health deteriorating further. It was her who Elia cuddled up against when she woke up screaming in the middle of the night from the nightmares the demons had left her with.

Ashara was Elia's foundation throughout the voyage to Tyrosh, the last normal thing the poor girl could cling to. That was perhaps why Elia made such a fuss when they finally made landfall and the monsters tried to separate them. Captain Mo had calmly explained that his liege, whoever that was, wished to speak with Elia alone. Elia had responded with such negativity that even Ashara was taken back.

This was the girl who had shied away from even the most gentle and peaceful movements from the monsters that had kept them captive for the last two weeks. Now, upon hearing that they would be separated, she was in the Captain's face screaming at him, despite a clear height difference. It was a side of Elia no one there had seen before, including Ashara.

Perhaps that was why it worked, the demons so taken aback that they actually followed the Princess' demands and allowed Ashara to go with her as Elia was led to where ever this mysterious Messenger was awaiting them. That turned out to be some sort of cross between a barn, cave, and dungeon, a large stone circular structure with high windows and what seemed to be a partially open ceiling.

The structure's purpose was fairly obvious once they were escorted inside. After all, the first thing they saw was a man with long blonde hair seemingly communing with a dragon the size of a small horse. His forehead was rested against it, and a low rumbling sound filled the room that from what Ashara could tell, came from the dragon itself. Was it happy or something?

Also, by the Seven, that was an actual dragon! Sure, there'd been rumors trickling in over much of the last year, far too many to discount them as false any longer. It was said that King Aerys was incensed when the rumors were finally confirmed by his Spider. Old Valyria was rising once more, and the dragons had returned with it.

But Ashara never expected to find a dragon in the den of some demon pirate lord. Of course, then Quhuru Mo called out to the man who seemed to be bonded with the creature, and he turned to reveal a face that shouted Targaryen at a first glance. Judging by Elia's sharp intake of breath at the handsome features that were revealed Ashara figured she had the same initial impression.

On second glance, the man was clearly not a full blooded Targaryen. There was softness to Targaryen faces, even the male ones. This man had the light blonde hair, but a more masculine jawline. Ashara took the man in even as he split from his dragon, which slipped away into the shadows without another glance back. She could objectively admit that he was handsome, especially when he smiled as he approached them.

His dimples would be adorable in any other situation, and he had a strange sort of boyish charm to him that seemed to run counter to the authority he radiated in sheer waves. As he came to a stop before them, Ashara could see curiosity in his eyes, as his brow furrowed and he asked Quhuru Mo a question in a language she did not understand.

A glance at Elia showed that she wasn't following the conversation either as the two men spoke back and forth for several minutes. The glance also revealed that Elia was far more affected by the dragon tamer's looks than she should have been, a growing blush suffusing her cheeks as she stared far longer than was appropriate at the man clearly in charge of the monsters who had captured them.

Ashara frowned, resolving to mention it to Elia later if they were given a moment alone together. The Princess was to marry Rhaegar Targaryen. She could not fall in love with a rogueish pirate lord who may or may not be from the seven hells.

Then of course, said rogue stepped forward, pleasant smile still on his face as he took first Elia's hands and then Ashara's in a gentle grasp, kissing the backs of both before finally speaking in the more comprehensible common tongue of Westeros.

"I find I must deeply apologize for the actions taken against you, my dear ladies. It would seem my men were overzealous in their hope for valuable treasure. They attacked your little fleet hoping to find gold or silver or jewels, but instead they found you. A misunderstanding of course, that's all. Word will be sent to Sunspear as well as King's Landing at once. If you are who you say you are, I am quite sure that a response will come quickly, and your kin will be here in all haste to retrieve you."

Ashara couldn't help but note that his voice was rather nice, even as she absorbed what he was saying. She comprehended quite well his words, the way he apologized for the misunderstanding, while at the same time acting as if it was perfectly fine and natural for his demons to regularly attack ten ship large fleets hoping for treasure. He was apologetic for their capture, but not apologetic that the attack had taken place, and Ashara could read that between the lines well enough to see that if they were proven to be lying about who they were, things would not go well for them.

Elia on the other hand was clearly a bit taken with the man, much to Ashara's dismay and slight irritation. The blush on Elia's face only grew more pronounced as the smile on their captor's face turned into a rogueish grin and he focused his attention solely on the princess.

"While we wait, you will of course be treated like guests in my home. I only ask that you not go wandering off, Niklaus is the least of your worries if you get lost without an escort."

That gets a bit of confusion from both women, but before either can voice it, the man elaborates.

"Niklaus is the dragon. How rude of me though, my name is Vali. I am called many titles, but if you cannot bring yourself to use my name, I would prefer you refer to me simply as Messenger."

Elia finally seems to find the courage to speak up, squeaking a bit as she gets out, "Why are you called the Messenger? What message do you have to deliver?"

Ashara can only watch as the newly named Vali chuckles a bit in response, and the princess seems even more taken in by the sound. Vali smiles and reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair from Elia's eyes as he responds, "I will be glad to tell you, but first I think you both must be very hungry. Let us retire for an evening meal, and I shall tell you all about my message and the one who sent me to deliver it."

There's a glint in this Messenger's eyes that Ashara really doesn't like, as Vali concludes with a rather casual statement, while also leading them out of what can only have been a dragon's nest.

"In fact, there might just be a way I can make this silly misunderstanding up to you, my dear princess."

 **A/N: For anyone who might be confused, this chapter covers most of the Year 279. So the first half is from the start of the year, and then there's a several month timeskip between Vali's talk with the Archon and Ashara's pov section.**

 **As always, please leave me a review letting me know what you think!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Here we go. Witcher 3: Blood and Wine was phenomenal, but time to get back into the swing of things here. So hopefully next chapters come out faster. Also need to kick the Hearthstone addiction I'm redeveloping, that game is just bad for me.**

 **Year 279 AC**

 **Dorne – Sunspear**

Doran Martell sat in pensive silence, eyes gliding over the words on the piece of parchment that his brother had brought before him personally. He'd known the moment Oberyn stormed in with fury etched across his face and delivered an already opened letter onto Doran's lap that something was wrong.

That was why he'd had the room cleared, leaving Oberyn and him in privacy so they could deal with whatever this was. His brother had immediately began to pace back and forth across the floor as he waited for Doran to finish the letter Oberyn had already read. Eventually Doran is done, his lips pressed together so tightly that they're going white, his free hand clenched in a fist and shaking, even as he puts down the letter with the other, struggling for composure.

Finally glancing up, Doran finds Oberyn has stopped and is staring at him. As soon as their eyes meet Oberyn starts in, "You must assemble everything. Every ship we have. We have to get her back."

Very carefully letting out a slow breath through barely parted lips, Doran shuts his eyes tight and shakes his head in the negative, even as he knows it will upset his younger brother. As the Red Viper's eyes widen in outrage and his mouth opens, more than likely to scream, Doran raises a sharp hand and cuts him off. It's a testament to their bond as siblings and also perhaps to the gap in age between them, that when Doran does so, Oberyn falls silent, long enough for Doran to explain.

"You must take a moment and think this through little brother. You know that Elia means the world to me, and I would do anything to keep her safe, to keep any of our family safe. But sailing for Tyrosh at the forefront of a Dornish fleet is not the way to ensure her or Lady Dayne's safety."

Oberyn grits his teeth before gesturing at the parchment resting in Doran's lap, "You read the letter! You know they sent the same message to King's Landing. We would not sail alone surely. Elia is to marry the Targaryen Prince, they will have to fight for her."

Once again Doran shakes his head, "Like I said, think brother. Tyrosh has always been a coastal fortress. But more recently they've become far more. Rumors have trickled in for months yet of late, our spies have been confirming them. Not only has Tyrosh seemingly gone insane by resorting to piracy against all Westerosi ships, they're being backed by a fleet of Summer Islander ships as well as the Valyrian Dragonlord. Essentially doubling their naval strength and putting the weight and might of a growing economic powerhouse behind them."

"There is a reason the royal fleet has not already sailed on Tyrosh in the last several months, but even that has nothing to do with why the Iron Throne will not act. Aerys has long cared little for Dorne, now though, he is spiraling and seeing traitors and spies where there are none, through eyes that grow more paranoid by the day. He will believe this letter is an attempt on our part to lure his heir to Tyrosh in order to take him prisoner. And it very well may be exactly what the Valyrian Dragonlord wants."

Doran falls silent to allow his younger brother a chance to assimilate what he'd said, and to respond. After a moment Oberyn does not disappoint, eyes still lit with fire, "Than if we cannot respond to this insult with appropriate force, you must allow me to do as the letter says. I will take a single ship to Tyrosh, with the ransom the Dragonlord has disguised in his demand that we cover the cost of his lost boat, and I will get our sister back. One way or another."

Doran pursed his lips together before answering in a low tone, "Do you not wonder how the crew of one pirate ship took on ten on one odds and came out the victors?

Oberyn sneers at that, "Obviously more lies. One ship could not take ten and win, that would be ridiculous. I imagine the cost of the single ship being demanded is because they only lost one ship in the attack, but given what you tell me of Tyrosh's fleet, it is no surprise if they so overwhelmed Elia's escort with twice or thrice their numbers."

It's Oberyn's turn to speak in a calm tone, his voice sure and confident, and his words clear in their finality, "I will go to Tyrosh brother. I will get our sister back. It is your choice whether I go with enough coin to pay this rat, or if I shall resort to my own tried and tested methods to get what I want."

Doran stares at his brother, knowing with every fiber of his body that trying to forbid Oberyn from this will not only fail, but more than likely lose his brother even more surely than sending him off will. He lets out a quiet breath and stands, stepping up to his younger brother and saying, "Do you think I wish to lose both of my siblings?"

Oberyn just smiles grimly and plants his hands on Doran's shoulders, "You worry too much brother. Have faith in me. You will lose neither me nor Elia. I promise it."

After a moment, Doran nods, "Very well. I will have a ship prepared for you. Go and get ready to depart."

Nodding as well, Oberyn turns and moves to walk from the room with purpose in his step until Doran calls to him.

"Oberyn! Bring her back."

At that, a vicious smile crosses the face of Doran's younger brother, and he gives sharper nod before leaving Doran to his thoughts. As the Prince of Dorne slowly fell back into his seat, he couldn't help wonder if he'd just lost both of his siblings to this Valyrian filth. If he had, there would of course be only one response.

House Lannister's words were 'Hear Me Roar', yet with how often you heard it, you'd think it was truly 'A Lannister Always Pays His Debts'. Well, the Martells had their own secondary creed to go with 'Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken'. It wasn't as popular as the Lannisters' little saying, but it was something the Martells had learned well over the centuries as the rulers of the only Kingdom in Westeros to remain at least partially independent. They were simple words with simple logic to them.

As Doran sat alone in his room, his sister in the hands of a man he knew far too little about, and his brother soon to be en route to treat with the same man, he found himself quietly speaking those simple words to the empty air.

"All slights shall be repaid tenfold."

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 279 AC**

 **King's Landing – Throne Room**

"Father! FATHER!"

King Aerys II Targaryen sat upon the Iron Throne, where he'd been listening another claimant's inane request or complaint or whatever. Truth be told, he hadn't been listening all that well. His attention was certainly grabbed however, as was the rest of the court's, when his eldest son and heir, Rhaegar Targaryen, strode through the throne room's large doors, dressed in what looked to be training armor judging by the way his sweaty hair clung to his head.

A parchment was clutched in one of his gauntleted hands, and as soon as Aerys saw it, he knew what this damn interruption was about. With a growl, he dismissed the court, though they did not go until he did so a second time, much more loudly. Then, it was just him, his son, and the Kingsguard. Aerys took distinct pleasure in dismissing Tywin from the hall specifically.

After all, it had become clear to him that Rhaegar and Tywin had been conspiring behind his back. Ever since he had refused to marry his firstborn to Tywin's daughter, they had been working together. First Tywin had had Steffon Baratheon assassinated off the coast of Storm's End as he returned from his trip to find Rhaegar a suitable bride. Then, they'd managed to trick Aerys into going to Duskendale, using House Darklyn as patsy assassins.

If not for Ser Selmy, their plan would have worked, Aerys knew that. He would be dead and Rhaegar would sit upon the Iron Throne with the whoreson Tywin Lannister whispering sweet nothings in his ears. It became clear to him that both his son and his Hand had to be put in their places. Rhaegar needed a wife and when word had come from Dorne about the possibility of a marriage, Aerys had swallowed his distaste for the dornish and actively considered the proposal.

While it left a bad taste in his mouth, he still concluded that betrothing Elia Martell to Rhaegar would be for the best. Not only would it spite Tywin, after the Lannister Patriarch had denied a match between Elia and Jaime and insulted the Martells in doing so, it would leave Rhaegar with a wife who was notoriously frail and weak. Given that Aerys was already looking for ways to put Viserys on the throne over his firstborn son, it made perfect sense to weaken Rhaegar as much as possible.

But now there was this. Of course Aerys had already seen the letter Rhaegar was holding. It had enraged him, but he knew himself to be a cunning man, and so he'd immediately begun to plan how to use Dorne's treachery to his advantage. Because of course, that was what this was. The Martells were working with the one they kept talking about from Essos. He had to be another Targaryen bastard, this rat masquerading as a Dragonlord of Old Valyria.

It was clear to Aerys that the rat lusted and coveted after the Iron Throne. He sought to undermine the Targaryen Dynasty and so did Dorne, very obviously. But Aerys was having none of it. He understood their plan instantly, and now planned to use it to his advantage. Plastering a fake smile on his face as an angry Rhaegar came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs that led to the Iron Throne, he spoke in a questioning tone, "Yes, my son?"

Rhaegar crumples the letter in his hand and tosses it to the ground, "We must respond to this father! They have Elia and Ashara and dress up their letter in flowery words and polite indifference, but it is clear they are demanding a ransom. We cannot allow this pretender to coerce such a thing from us. Allow me to take the Royal Fleet to Tyrosh and show them our might."

Aerys kept the fake smile on his face even as he pretended to ponder Rhaegar's words. Of course, Rhaegar was right. The Targaryens could not be seen to be swindled by pirates, paying the ransom was out of the question… yet Aerys could not allow Rhaegar to take the Royal Fleet, if his plan was to work. And so, he shook his head in the negative.

"I cannot allow such a thing my son. Tyrosh's fleet outnumbers ours for the moment, and while I have had more ships commissioned, they will not be built for some time. It is unfortunate, but the Martell girl's fate is out of our hands. It is also quite likely she will no longer be an appropriate bride for the Heir of the Seven Kingdoms after this. The Martells will have to pay the ransom, and I imagine once they have her back, they will not wish to risk her by allowing her to leave Dorne again."

"Once the Royal Fleet is properly reinforced and matches the numbers that we've ascertained of Tyrosh's own fleets, then we will go and bring the Free City to its knees."

Aerys injected the right amounts of fake sympathy into his voice, but he suspected Rhaegar wasn't truly buying his act, even as his son paced back and forth for several moments before stopping, having formulated his response, "If we ignore this, it will look worse than if we paid the ransom father! Our honor will be tarnished!"

After a long pause, Rhaegar's jaw set and Aerys knew that his son had made up his mind. He just hoped it had been made in the direction Aerys wished.

"If the Royal Fleet is not ready, give me a single ship and allow me to go it alone. I shall offer to pay the ransom, it is after all a meager one. Our honor will remain untarnished, and we will gain back any lost reputation when the fleet is prepared to sail on Tyrosh."

Aerys balks and outright scoffs at the idea, even as he suppresses his ecstasy at the way his traitorous son was falling right into his trap, "You would have me risk you, my firstborn heir? Over this frail girl from Dorne?"

He waited with baited breathe as Rhaegar sneered, "I choose to risk myself father. You must allow me this!"

Taking the appropriate amount of time to pretend to think it over, Aerys falsely ponders for a time that stretches into silent minutes, before finally speaking, "Very well. You will not go alone however. Ser Dayne, step forward."

It pained Aerys to do this, but he knew he must, for Ser Arther Dayne, despite arguably being the greatest swordsman in the realm, was his treacherous son's creature, through and through. So as the Kingsguard Knight stepped forward in clear surprise, Aerys gestured between the two of them.

"Ser Arthur Dayne, as a Knight of the Kingsguard, I charge you with accompanying my son to Tyrosh and ensuring he returns safely."

Both Rhaegar and Arthur looked shock at what Aerys knew looked like an uncharacteristic kind gesture. After all, Arthur's sister was with Elia in Tyrosh. After a moment, Rhaegar found his voice and bowed at the waist, "I thank you father. With your permission, we will depart immediately."

Aerys nodded and gestured dismissively, watching the two armored men leave the throne room through hooded eyes. He kept the gleeful smile threatening to spill out onto his features contained, instead affecting a somber air, even as inside he jumped for joy. In one fell swoop, he'd fooled two separate entities out to get him, and would soon have ample reason to destroy them all as well!

See, Aerys knew what the Martells and the Valyrian pretender had been trying at, from the start. After Duskendale, they probably knew that he would never go to Tyrosh himself, but sending his son? Perfectly reasonable. And when Rhaegar arrived in Tyrosh, he and Arthur Dayne would be captured just as Elia and Ashara were 'captured'. Only Rhaegar would probably be the only one truly prisoner, yes, that made sense.

It surprised Aerys, that Arthur would betray Rhaegar so, but obviously House Dayne was in on the trap. Perhaps the Sword of the Morning hadn't been informed contrary to Aerys' beliefs. That just meant more confusion and infighting when he arrived at Rhaegar's side in Tyrosh. And once Rhaegar was captured, the man who Aerys suspected was a Targaryen bastard yearning for the Iron Throne would more than likely demand more concessions or a larger ransom in an effort to weaken Aerys' position further.

But that was the flaw in the plan this bastard they called Vali had clearly concocted with the dornish. They were banking everything on the idea that Aerys cared enough for Rhaegar to not wish to risk his life. Little did they know just how strained things were between father and son. Little did they know, that Aerys planned for Viserys to inherit, and they'd played right into his hands.

He'd been telling the truth about commissioning improvements for the Royal Fleet. However, what he didn't say was that the lion's share of the coin dedicated to such things was going to the Alchemist's Guild. When news came back to King's Landing that Rhaegar had been taken prisoner as well, and the larger ransom was no doubt demanded, Aerys would send the Royal Fleet forth with holds full of wild fire ammunition.

Tyrosh and its fleet would burn, along with the bastard pretender, the dornish traitors, and Rhaegar, his own flesh and blood. The last would of course be an accident, and Aerys would spend the appropriate amount of time grieving, before he took Viserys under his wing personally, and molded the boy into a more loyal heir, one who would not be seduced by Lannister gold and plot his death behind his back.

Oh yes, they talked behind his back and called him all manner of things. But King Aerys II Targaryen was not the fool they all thought him. He was not mad, he was not crazy. In point of fact, he was smarter than all of those imbeciles who sought to topple him.

As they'd soon learn. They would all learn.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 279 AC**

 **Essos – Tyrosh**

Ashara was in a euphoric daze as she lulled her head back and forth, barely listening to the voices around her. She'd never felt this good before. She'd give anything to feel like this forever, but when she tried to voice such thoughts, all that came from her mouth was a low moan that caused soft feminine fingers to slide between her lips in response. She sucked on them dutifully, even as two voices in particular carried on a conversation.

"They're on their way my darling, both your brother and your betrothed. They should be here within the month. You understand what I need from you, don't you?"

That was… that voice belonged to the Master yes? Or was it their captor? Ashara's mind was befuddled, confused. She loved her master, she knew that much. Maybe she just shouldn't think about it so hard.

"Yes Vali, I understand perfectly. I'm ready to play my role, though I think you've melted poor Ashara's mind beyond recovery."

That voice, Ashara recognized a bit more readily. Princess Elia Martell, whom she served. Her mistress in so many new ways now. Ashara would follow the princess to the ends of the world, do anything she wished. Of course she would.

"Oh worry not about that, I only break my toys so thoroughly because I know exactly how to put them back together. Let me show you."

Ashara dimly felt her chin being grabbed and her eyes forced open as her master looked down into them with his own eyes, eyes that looked like swirling endless pools she could get lost in forever.

"Hello pet. Time to sleep and forget my dear. When you awake, you will remember your time in captivity as nothing less than proper. You and the Princess were treated as honored guests. You even learned quite a lot more about Tyrosh and Essos than you were expecting. Now, sleep."

Ashara felt only a faint bit of panic as the euphoria left her and her mind scrambled for that hastily departing feeling of bliss. Then she was asleep and knew nothing of what she'd lost.

Thus, she did not hear Elia giggle above her as she stole Vali away from Ashara's sleeping form, "Impressive my lord. But when she does wake up, we won't be able to have fun anymore, and as you said, there's a month left before my brother arrives."

"Indeed, but it will help to solidify the compulsion, if she has real memories to correlate the fake ones. Which unfortunately, means that to continue the plan and this fun little game I've concocted, we must keep our hands to ourselves for the next month."

An answering sigh of disappointment turns into a girlish shriek of delight, even as Vali speaks up with a grin in his voice.

"And that means, while she sleeps we'll have to make up for all of time we're about to lose."

 **A/N: Next chapter, everyone converges on Tyrosh~ And for anyone confused by the Aerys segment of this chapter, remember he's fucking bananas. He's got some parts of the puzzle, but all of his conclusions are the product of a delusional mind, and thus wrong.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Alright, so this is the longest I've ever gone between chapters... quite frankly, I've been struggling hard with this story for the last few weeks, and I can't really put what's going on into words. Suffice to say, feel like I've lost all inspiration, but I really don't want to abandon or drop this.**

 **So I'm posting what I've managed to write in the past 3 weeks, a measly 2556 words. I'm hoping that posting this and getting your guys' feedback and comments might revitalize something within me and get my creativity flowing again. But I can't make any promises. I don't know when the next chapter will come. I don't know if I'll end up putting this story on hiatus or abandoning it altogether. For the time being, I am still committed to finishing it.**

 **Sorry for the short chapter, but hope you enjoy nonetheless.**

 **Year 280 AC**

 **Essos – Tyrosh**

Oberyn had barely stepped off the ship and onto the dock before a Tyroshi with vibrant sky blue hair stepped forward to greet him, "Prince Oberyn Martell, it is a pleasure to meet you. My lord asked me to be here to greet you upon your arrival, so that I may offer to take you directly to him."

The Dornish Prince didn't bother with even a thin veneer of civility, sneering at the Tyroshi and spitting to the side before stepping up to loom over the slightly shorter man, "This lord of yours, will my sister be at his side when I lay eyes upon him? If not, I confess I will more than likely not react well."

Infuriatingly, the gopher just smiles and nods, Oberyn's attempts at intimidation and menace seeming to fly right over the dunce's head, even as he answers the question put to him, "Yes, from what I understand they are currently partaking of a midday meal in my lord's dining hall. Lady Dayne is with them as well, of course."

Oberyn keeps the sneer on his face, "Of course. Fine then, lead the way."

The toady bows at that and turns to lead Oberyn through bustling streets, away from the harbor. Oberyn keeps his arms crossed as he walks, fingers gliding over the handles of throwing knives hidden amongst his person. His spear was sheathed across his back as well, and it seemed so far that he was not going to be asked to remove it. No matter, Oberyn would make certain of Elia's safety, before doing anything too foolish anyways.

He knew as much about this man who'd taken his sister as Doran did. That was to say, he knew too many rumors and not as much confirmed truth as he would have wanted. If for some reason this Vali survived the insult he'd made to the Martells, the Daynes, and the Targaryens, Oberyn rather hoped he could come away from this with a bit more information on this new power that had risen in Essos.

Not that this supposed Valyrian's survival was very likely. After all, he-

A loud roar shook through the air and disrupted the young Martell's thoughts. He found himself freezing up immediately, eyes wide as he tensed and glanced about for the source of the sound that had invoked a moment of primal terror in him. Nobody around him even reacted to the sound, and it took his guide a moment to realize Oberyn had stopped in the middle of the street.

Moving back to where the Dornish Prince stood, he affects a sympathetic smile, "Ah, my apologies Prince Oberyn. That is just Niklaus."

Oberyn's lips thin as he presses them together. He knows bait when he sees it, and the casual comment and unfamiliar name are innocently said but clearly meant to mock him and draw out the obvious next question. Still, his curiosity is greater than his pride in this instance.

"And what, pray tell, is a Niklaus?"

The guide's smile becomes a toothy grin, "Why, Niklaus is my lord's dragon of course. He's gotten rather big in the last few months, and as a consequence his roar has increased quite a lot in volume. His growth is the talk of the city, we're quite proud to house one of the only two dragons in existence you know! There are rumors that his diet consists entirely of kraken flesh. Can you imagine that?"

Oberyn could do nothing more than stare as the other man chuckles and shakes his head, finding humor from his own jokes. Obviously the Martell Prince didn't want to believe the confirmation of rumors he'd been hearing for months now. The idea that this man of clear Targaryen, or perhaps in truth, Valyrian descent was not only forming an empire in Essos, but was doing it from the backs of dragons, had not been something anyone on Westeros wanted to be true.

Not even the Targaryens wanted the second coming of Aegon the Conqueror, when it came for them instead of from them. Yet Oberyn could not deny what he had heard, the strange yet deeply terrifying roar that was so unfamiliar to him, even as it resonated deeply within his mind. There was the potential that it was just a ploy, a trick to strike fear in his heart. But he could not afford to go into this being overconfident. He would move forward under the assumption that he was not only going up against a Dragonlord to get his sister back, but a living breathing dragon as well.

On that note, Oberyn suddenly realized that his so-called 'guide' had been leading him in circles, as they passed by a fruit stall Oberyn knew he'd seen before, if only because there was a comely lass with bright lavender hair manning it. With a growl, the prince stepped forward and grabbed his guide by the collar, spinning him around and glaring directly into his eyes, all terror forgotten.

"You will stop playing games with me and take me directly to my sister, or I will start removing fingers from your hands."

The guide's smug mocking countenance is gone immediately as he simpers and whimpers in the face of Oberyn's fury, "Forgive me Prince Oberyn! I merely thought you might wish to see some of the wonders Tyrosh has to offer, I was merely taking a slightly longer route, that is all!"

Oberyn sneers at the man's poor attempt at subterfuge, "I am no fool! You were leading me in circles. Now, will we be going directly to my sister and your lord, or shall I start deciding which fingers I think you need least to fulfill your task?"

"O-of course Prince Oberyn. I-I'll lead you directly there, I promise. Just allow me to show you the way."

There's a pause, as the young dornish man stares into his deceitful guide's eyes for a long moment before smiling widely and releasing him as if nothing had happened, "Wonderful! I knew you were a reasonable sort. Lead on! My sister awaits!"

 **XxScenebreakxX**

I heard Oberyn Martell's approach long before I was able to set my eyes on him. With such an advantage, I was able to time the punchline of the embellished story I was regaling Elia and Ashara with right as he walked into the room.

"… And so, I asked the Khal, if he thought so little of my horse, what he might think instead of my dragon."

Elia's eyes twinkle as she leans forward, careful not to dip her clothing in the meal in front of her, but still on the edge of her seat, "And how did he respond?"

Shrugging, I grin wickedly and spear a piece of my own lunch before finishing my story right as Oberyn walked into the room, "I couldn't tell you. Niklaus flew overhead in the next moment and took the Khal's head off with a well-aimed blast of dragonfire."

Both girls reacted to the end of my tale with at least some degree of amusement and humor, but my attention was focused more on Oberyn's reaction. He kept his face blank, but I noted the way one of his hands spasmed into a tight fist for just a moment before relaxing. It seemed the roar I'd had Niklaus left off earlier had left an impression on the young dornish prince.

With a wide smile, I stand and spread my arms, "Prince Oberyn Martell, it is so good to finally meet you."

Elia's head turns toward Oberyn at my words, seeming to finally notice the arrival of her sibling. Her eyes widen and a radiant smile spreads across her face as she leaps from her seat and rushes over to sweep her brother up into her arms, "Oberyn, you've finally arrived!"

I could see that the male Martell was not expecting the strength of his sister's grip as she pulled him in close for a long moment before drawing back and grabbing him by the hand, pulling him over to where her and Ashara were sitting and pushing him down into a seat. Oberyn's eyes were wide and surprised even as Elia grabs a plate and begins filling it up for him from the veritable feast in front of them.

Sitting down, I can only watch in amusement as Elia steamrolls over her brother with comments about how thin he's looking and how hungry he must be for some decent food after such a long voyage. Soon enough, we're all eating, and any plans Oberyn had for confronting me were very clearly derailed by his own sister.

Instead, Elia and Ashara double-teamed Oberyn with small talk and tales of the adventures they'd had under my generous care. I could see the way he reacted in a negative fashion whenever one of the noblewomen commented on me in a positive way, but he held his tongue amusingly enough. At least, until the meal came to an end and he stood abruptly, finally turning his attention to the source of his incredible ire. Me.

"As… lovely as all this is. It is time for us to leave. I have brought the payment for your lost ship with me, and it resides on my own vessel. We should go to the docks now so that it can be handed over, and I can depart with my sister and the Lady Dayne."

I can see it in his eyes, he's expecting, maybe even hoping, for this to be the moment where I betray the deal I outlined to his brother and him in the letter. I see no reason to disappoint him, smiling amicably but shaking my head in the negative.

"There is no need. Dorne's payment has already been removed from your vessel. However, it is only half of what I am owed, so regrettably I cannot allow you to depart. Prince Rhaegar Targaryen comes from King's Landing with the other half of the payment. Luckily, he is scheduled to arrive within the day. A fortuitous happenstance. All you will have to do is wait here but one day as my honored guest, and we will put all of this unfortunate business behind us."

Oberyn's façade finally cracks and he grits his teeth as his hands curl into tight fists. All the same, there is a bit of triumph in his eyes as he speaks, "So now you reveal the true depth of your depravity. Do you think me a fool? You have kidnapped a Princess and Lady of Dorne. You now think to take me as your prisoner, as well as the Targaryen Prince, hmm? And what exactly, have you done to my crew? They would not allow your men onto my ship so easily."

I just smile in response, once more shaking my head, "You are wrong, on all accounts. Your crew in particular is fine. They were persuaded quite easily to stand aside. After all, if you were not here to pay the reparations for my destroyed ship, why would you bring the agreed upon sum?"

Elia takes over at that moment, as Oberyn's face has grown an alarming shade of puce and he opens his mouth, no doubt to shout, scream, or roar at me. Elia's hand on his arm as she pulls him to the side and speaks lowly, supposedly out of my hearing range, is all that stops his outburst.

"Oberyn! Lord Vali has been nothing but the perfect host to Ashara and I. He means us no harm, and has treated us with absolute respect. He has already explained to us that Dorne would pay half and the Targaryens would pay the other half. There is no plot here, no kidnapping scheme. He is not fool enough to think he could anger the entire Seven Kingdoms and survive holed up here in Tyrosh. Prince Rhaegar will arrive tomorrow with their part of the payment, and this will be laid to rest."

Oberyn kept his own words low, but his tone was incredulous as he stared at his sister, "Elia, you can't possibly believe this man to be anything more than pirate scum. He targeted your fleet for you specifically. There is no doubt in my mind. He grabbed you for a reason."

Elia shakes her head sharply, "No. I was there Oberyn. We were at fault. The Captain in charge of the fleet reacted poorly to the single Tyroshi ship that appeared on the horizon, because of the rumors of piracy. We attacked them first, we sank their ship. They were defending themselves."

Oberyn's eyes are wide, clearly warring with his desire to trust his older sister, while on the other hand, having a hard time believing what she's saying, "How is that possible? How did the crew of a single sinking ship take the entire fleet?"

Elia injects a small note of fear into her tone at this point and I can't help but give silent props to her acting, "They have powerful monsters that I have never seen or heard of before. Magic has returned to Essos Oberyn. Dragons have returned to Essos. The Seven Kingdoms would prefer to stick their collective heads in the sand and ignore what's happening in Essos, but I have seen it with my own eyes. So has Ashara."

Making a show of closing those eyes and taking a deep breath as she pauses for a moment, Elia continues only a moment later, staring Oberyn down with frank intensity, "But, Ashara and I were spared. We were brought to Tyrosh, and ever since, Lord Vali of Valyria has treated us as his guests, not his prisoners. He is not our enemy Oberyn, and we do not want to make him one."

I stay seated as I watch the young man struggle with his sister's words. It seems obvious to me that something is up, but then as the mastermind behind everything, of course it would. I had all of the details. Yet after a long moment Oberyn nods in agreement with his elder sister and then looks to me.

"I… apologize for my remarks Lord Vali. I accept your generous offer and will partake of your hospitality while we await the Targaryen Prince's arrival."

The smile on my face is pleasant as I spread my hands apart, "There is nothing to apologize for or to forgive. You care for your family and I respect that. To that end, I will leave the three of you alone for the day. Explore Tyrosh if you wish, or spend the time catching up. My men know that Princess Elia and Lady Ashara are to be denied nothing. So long as you remain with them, you will be afforded the same courtesy."

I leave unsaid the fact that if he wanders off on his own, any protection his sister's presence afforded would be stripped. From the look on his face, I was rather sure he understood quite well regardless. He nods shortly in response, and I stay seated as Elia leads Oberyn from the room and Ashara trails out behind them.

Luckily the hot-headed dornish prince doesn't see my face, because I'm sure the smile I let cross it is quite sinister at this point. Tomorrow promised to be quite fun.

 **A/N: Honestly, part of me blames Oberyn for all this! :p He's so damn hard for me to write, he was one of the reasons my original GoT fic, the Joffrey!SI, ended when it did, before I had to deal with him lol.**

 **Rhaegar and Arthur Dayne arrive next... anything in particular you'd like to see in regards to them? Anything in particular you'd like to see from Oberyn as well?**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Here we go, here's Chapter 15. Hope you enjoy, sorry for the wait, and please read the Author's Note at the end of this chapter to find out what I'm doing with this story moving forward.**

 **Year 280 AC**

 **Tyrosh**

Rhaegar Targaryen did not consider himself to be an arrogant man. He was prideful, certainly. Confident in his skills, undoubtedly. But then again, he had reason to be. Rhaegar was Prince of the entirety of Westeros, Scion to the Iron Throne and Heir to the Seven Kingdoms. He and every Targaryen had every right to be proud of the dynasty they'd created on Westeros.

As for his martial talent, there Rhaegar took a more personal pleasure and pride. That was all him after all, his own efforts and training channeled over the years into making him one of the strongest and most skilled and respected knights in the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms. As he stepped off the boat onto the dock of Tyrosh, he looked to his traveling companion, who just happened to be one of the few knights he considered an equal peer.

Arthur Dayne, Sword of the Morning and wielder of the ancient family sword Dawn, looked around with a slight frown on his face, "I would have expected some sort of greeting, welcoming or otherwise… but nothing? What does this scoundrel think he's playing at?"

Rhaegar can't help chuckling in response, "I imagine it's an insult of sorts. A slight against me, an indication that I am the lesser between he and I. It lends some credence to the idea that this man is a Targaryen Bastard. He seems intent on proving himself my superior in any way he can. First, taking my betrothed and then forcing us to retrieve her… and now this snub."

Arthur snorts at that, looking around, "A costly snub perhaps. We are in full armor and armed with swords. Yet no one thinks to stop us from just walking into the city? Hmph, we could walk right up to this supposed bastard and shove Valyrian Steel down his throat before any could react, I imagine."

The seemingly careless words have their intended effect and draw a response from a nearby Tyroshi Merchant. The specifics of the reaction are what interest Rhaegar the most though. Instead of acting in anger or fear at the casual talk of assassination, the man scoffs and he does so openly. It seems the man derives humor from Arthur's comment, so Rhaegar raises an eyebrow and says, "Do you have something to say merchant?"

Called out, the Tyroshi finally gets a bit nervous, but he largely maintains his cool as he convulsively swallows before answering with, "No my lord."

Here, Arthur steps in, resting his hand on the pommel of Dawn and smiling viciously, "You stand before the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. The proper form of address is Your Highness. And I don't think that's quite the truth, is it? Speak, or lose your tongue."

Glancing around but finding no support from the people on the docks around them, the merchant frowns, not seeming all that cowed by the armed Knight's words, despite the severity. More resigned than anything, "Fine. You're both fools if you think you could possibly kill the Dragonlord, 'Your Highness'."

The scorn in the Tyroshi's tone as he addressed Rhaegar was obvious, but the Prince held up a hand to halt Arthur's imminent negative reaction, smiling pleasantly instead, "Is that so? And why is that merchant?"

The Tyroshi shrugs, "You don't think people haven't tried? The Valyrian Dragonlord took Tyrosh over night, but he did not do so without opposition. Many Tyroshi are dead now for the attempts on his life. But that's nothing compared to his true enemies. The Faceless Men."

Rhaegar and Arthur could only listen raptly as the merchant let out a humorless chuckle, "The Faceless Men have been trying to kill him since he arrived in Tyrosh, longer if you believe the rumors. And not just one or two of their order. This is a crusade against the Dragonlord, one that has failed, utterly and totally."

The handsome prince raises an eyebrow at that, "And how has it failed? Even on Westeros we know of the Faceless Men's prowess. How does this man stop them, how does he repel them?"

A scoff is what the knights get in response to that, "Man? He is no man… he can't be."

There's clearly a story here, and Rhaegar and Arthur are savvy enough to recognize that and stay silent. Eventually, the merchant begins to speak, "Before the Dragonlord arrived, Tyrosh was led by an Archon, as I'm sure nobles of your stature would know. Well the Dragonlord didn't kill him to take control of the city. No, something much more insidious happened. One day, the Archon was Tyrosh's ruler and the next he was announcing the change in leadership with a smile on his face."

"… But the Archon still did the work and was still mostly in charge. Until the Faceless Men got desperate a few months ago. Their normal poisons and assassination techniques had failed against the Dragonlord, so they turned to something more definitive. Wildfire."

Rhaegar's eyes widen at that and Arthur can't help letting out a disbelieving sound, followed up with the words, "You can't be serious."

The merchant just nods, not a single ounce of humor in his face, "The green explosion was unmistakable. The crater left behind by the Archon's old estate burned for days with just as unmistakable verdant flames. The Dragonlord and the Archon had been meeting there when the explosion took place. The Dragonlord was the only survivor, and witnesses claim he walked out of the ruins completely nude… but also completely unscathed!"

Despite the disbelief Rhaegar knew the merchant had to see etched across his face, the Tyroshi still finished what he was saying, shrugging in that resigned attitude from before, "So you see, he is no man. After all, the Faceless Men would not throw themselves again and again at a simple man. Nor would they fail. Whatever business you are here for 'your highness', I recommend finishing it up quickly, before the Dragonlord's eyes fall upon you."

The merchant makes to turn away but Rhaegar grits his teeth and stops him one last time, "Actually, we're here to see this Dragonlord. Where can we find him?"

With a blank face and tightly pressed lips, the Tyroshi points towards a large structure near the center of the city, rather menacing in its appearance. A palace of sorts or perhaps a castle? A thin smile and a nod is all Rhaegar gives the man in thanks, before walking with purpose towards the structure pointed out to him, Arthur close on his heels.

While that little fact finding conversation had been illuminating, it had also raised more questions. Ones he intended to have answered before he left this forsaken city with his bride and Arthur's sister safely at their side. It didn't take long for them to arrive at a set of gates for the palace, manned by guards wielding pikes. They were stopped of course, but Rhaegar and Arthur just placed their hands on the pommels of their blades and smiled.

Once again, Arthur was the one who spoke, "You stand before the Crown Prince to the Iron Throne, Rhaegar Targaryen. We seek an audience with the ruler of Tyrosh. He is expecting our arrival."

The guards remained stoic and unmoved by his speech. Rhaegar wasn't even sure that they knew how to speak the common tongue. After a moment, Arthur gave a sinister half smile that didn't reach his eyes, and stepped towards the guards. His posture and tone conveyed his message as clearly as his next words.

"You will let us through… or we will go through you."

This got a response as the two guards finally really looked at the two Westerosi, and then exchange a glance. After a moment, one nods to the other and the latter steps inside as the first takes up position in the middle of the doorway. Arthur is prepared to draw his sword, but Rhaegar steps forward and places a calming hand on his friend's shoulder, smiling pleasantly.

"I do believe we're getting somewhere Arthur. Let's wait and see for a moment."

With a grunt, Arthur does as his prince commands. Sure enough, only a couple minutes pass before the first guard is back with someone else dressed in clothing instead of armor. The two Westerosi are granted entrance with little fanfare, Rhaegar smiling all the wider as he leads Arthur into the belly of the beast.

Finally. Progress.

 **XxScenebreakxX**

 **Year 280 AC**

 **Tyrosh**

My 'throne room' had not been designed for extravagance, despite its size. It had been designed to house a dragon, because that was just part of my eccentric charm. And so, I sat upon Niklaus' large scaled leg even as he twisted his head around so that I could scratch behind the ridges atop his skull, peering down at the Tyroshi claimants who came before me with their problems.

Off to the side, Elia and Ashara entertained themselves by teasing and messing with Oberyn, who had gotten very drunk on a very strong wine the night before. It seemed this younger Oberyn could not handle Valyrian Liquor. It made me wonder just how well the older Oberyn I only knew of through stories would have fared.

My musings, and the claimant I'm barely listening to, are interrupted by the arrival of the other half of Elia's rescue mission. Rhaegar Targaryen, Crown Prince of the Iron Throne and Arthur Dayne, Sword of the Morning, step into the room and cause a hush to fall as they're noticed. The pair aren't much better, as the first thing they see on arrival is of course Niklaus and then me. Mouths drop, eyes widen. Everyone is gawking at this point. It's awkward.

I use the moment to slip off my draconic perch with a smile on my face and clap my hands together, "Wonderful, you're finally here! Clear the room!"

Even the man who'd been speaking before their arrival knows better than to protest, and in moments there's nobody but me, my dragon, and the Westerosi men and women. Still grinning like a loon, I step up and give a short bow to both of my newest guests, "Your Highness, Sir Dayne. It's a pleasure to finally meet you both. But I'm sure I'm not who you're here for, mm?"

I step aside just in time for Ashara Dayne to barrel through where I'd been standing and hug her brother despite his full plate armor. It had to be uncomfortable, but she didn't seem to care, "Arthur! It's so good to see you!"

Her brother is clearly at a loss for words, probably still stunned by the actual living breathing dragon behind me, as well a bit thrown by his sister's clear exuberance as well. Meanwhile, Elia has made her way over at a more sedate pace, Oberyn sticking close to her side even as she came to a stop in front of a shell-shocked Rhaegar. Her presence directly in front of him is what finally tears his eyes off my dragon, as despite her diminutive size, she manages to block his line of sight for a moment and grab his attention. She smiles and inclines her head to him, "My Prince. It is good to finally meet you."

Rhaegar collects himself and manages a small, albeit shaky, smile in response, "And you as well my betrothed. You are well? Unharmed?"

Elia just smiles wider and nods, "Yes, Vali has been an impeccable host, a perfect gentleman. I am perfectly fine."

Seeing that my moment to interject has come, I clap my hands and draw their attention, "Right, well as touching as this all is, you all should probably be on your way. I have my payment and Elia and Ashara's things are already loaded onto your ship, Prince Rhaegar. We are done here. Ladies, it has been my pleasure."

While Ashara and Elia both smile at my courteous fair well, Rhaegar and Oberyn are growing stormy at the same time for different reasons.

"You dare imply my men craven enough to allow you on my ship?"

"Elia and Ashara will be coming home with me to Dorne, not King's Landing!"

As both register what the other has said, they turn the anger directed at me onto one another. Oberyn is the first to smirk though, "You will find that the Dragonlord is very adept at getting where he should not be allowed. It seems your men are no more loyal than mine were."

Rhaegar definitely makes note of the emphasis Oberyn puts on Dragonlord, a clear slight against his Targaryen heritage, but still manages a humorless smirk as he strikes at the other subject at hand, "Elia is my betrothed and my bride. Ashara is both her handmaiden and my friend's sister. They will be returning to King's Landing with us. I fully intend to honor the marriage arrangement between our two houses, or else I would not be here!"

Both men look ready to at best continue this argument for a while, or at worst come to blows. I wonder if or when I should step in, but before I can get past the considering stages, Elia does it for me. Stepping between her brother and future husband, she places a hand on each of their chests and catches their gazes, smiling softly.

"Please, do not argue, do not fight. Oberyn, I am in good health and there is no need for you to worry. I will go to King's Landing and marry the Prince. You will not fight me on this. And Rhaegar, you will certainly not begrudge me my brother's company on our coming voyage yes? He only worries for me, but if he is by my side I am sure he will be content."

Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly given the circumstances, Elia's words reach both men and a moment later they're nodding, anger suddenly gone entirely. Rhaegar is the one who speaks, "Of course my love. It will be no hardship."

Oberyn speaks up a moment later, "As you wish sister."

Elia's smile grows wider still as she turns away from the two men and proceeds to lead the way out of my throne room, "Good! Come along then, we have a ship to catch!"

I cough, sounding almost apologetic as I stop the group's departure. I know I'm being rude, but I can't help one last jab, what with the information I'd received no more than a week ago, about a successful… operation some of my hybrids had undertaken.

"Before you go there is something I need to say to the Crown Prince, privately I'm afraid."

Arthur moves to protest that, but Rhaegar holds up a hand, "It's alright Arthur. Wait outside."

In a few moments it's just me and Rhaegar, and he has this small smile on his face as he steps closer, eyes focused on me instead of the large dragon behind me. Probably a dumb move considering my compulsion, but I have no intention of using that here. It would ruin the fun!

Smiling, I step forward as well, meeting him in the middle and clasping my hands behind my back. He speaks first, "Is this where you reveal yourself as another Blackfyre Bastard? Send me back to my father with demands for legitimacy or threats of an invasion of Westeros?

I chuckle and shake my head, "No Rhaegar Targaryen, it is not. I have a message, before I send you back to your father, but it is for you, not him. Simply put, rein him in."

He blinks at that, brow furrowing in confusion and a bit of irritation at the way I speak of his father and king, "What?"

"Rein him in. Your father grows unstable. Westeros grows unstable. I am not Targaryen. I am not a bastard of your blood. I am Valyrian, and you would do well to remember it. You would also do well to open your eyes to the truth. Your father is unfit to be king."

Rhaegar's eyes widen in fury at my presumption but I plow forward, "I received news recently of Westeros. I'm quite certain it is of interest to you. Apparently, there was an accident with the Royal Fleet. Much if it is gone, destroyed reportedly, by green flames."

The Prince's face goes from furious to shocked and I know he's made the connection. I smile politely, "Yes, I fear your father is dabbling with Wildfire, and as a result dealing with catastrophic consequences. I tell you this so that you may do something about it."

Predictably, Rhaegar sneers in response, "You tell me this so that I may do something about it? It is all too clear why you tell me this. Would a Targaryen Civil war weaken Westeros for you, so that you may more easily conquer it?"

I just shake my head and smile, offering no more words. I will allow the Prince to come to his own conclusions. After staring at me for a long moment, I reach out mentally and Niklaus shifts, snorting out a puff of smoke behind me and startling the young Targaryen from our little staring contest. Rhaegar's lip curls and he turns on his heel, departing from the throne room to rejoin his fellow Westerosi and depart from my city.

Watching him go, I step back and fall into the surprisingly comfortable embrace of my dragon, stroking the underbelly of Niklaus' chin and smiling wider and wider.

This was only the beginning.

 **A/N: Hey guys, so with that I'd say this chapter concludes the first "arc" of this story. And as a result, I think this is where I put this story on official hiatus. I'm sure this isn't much of a surprise to most of you.**

 **I should have done the official hiatus post a month or so ago, but I also post this story on and I wanted to be able to tell my readerships on both websites that it was going on hiatus at the same time. Plus this chapter was a much better stop/pause point than last chapter, which was a total tease bordering on a cliffhanger :p**

 **So that said, here's the why; I've hit a huge block with this story, and possibly writing in general over the last couple months. Extremely unfortunate, because during the Summer, the time of the year I had the most free time for writing, I squandered all that time away procrastinating. It sucks but it is what it is. I'd probably be a lot angrier with myself if this was my actual job or something haha, or maybe I would have just pushed through the block if there was a financial value attached.**

 **Either way, it's time for me to admit that this story won't be moving forward until I'm truly interested in continuing it and right now that is unfeasible.**

 **So what does this mean for my writing going forward? Well I want to keep writing, but I'm not sure how much I will. I'm hoping that with this chapter finished and this story no longer looming over me quite so badly, I might actually put some of the ideas that have come to me recently down on a word doc. Can't promise anything though.**

 **I've also been considering some one shot ideas, or even a one shot compilation of Vali in different universes or even old universes and different scenarios. So let me know what you think of that, and feel free to suggest anything you think might get my creative juices flowing. To give you some insight, right now a lot of my ideas are focused on modern settings. I think I tend to enjoy Vali a bit more in modern times, with or without a masquerade of sorts to pierce and mess with.**

 **Anyways, thanks for reading this obnoxiously long Author's Nore/Hiatus Notice! As a token of my gratitude have a cookie!**

 **...**

 **Wait no we're out of those. Let's just do this bonus scene instead. Enjoy =)**

 **Bonus Scene:**

Later that night, Elia and Ashara were safely ensconced in personal quarters on Rhaegar's ship, alone at last. The ship had left Tyrosh's harbor hours before and they were well on their way to King's Landing. The future looked bright indeed.

Ashara hummed to herself happily as she brushed her hair. It was good to see her brother again. It was good to be headed back to Westeros, even if her stay in Tyrosh had been more of a fun vacation than a traumatic imprisonment. Sure, she would never forget the monsters she saw that day on the boat, as their armada was massacred around them. But Elia had experienced the same horror, and together the two women bolstered and supported one another. They were stronger for it and Ashara had never felt closer to her Princess.

Elia's voice suddenly pulled her out of her thoughts a moment later, "Ashara dear, come here."

Obediently, Ashara rose from her cot and made her way across the small room to Elia's side, "Yes your highness, what is it?"

Elia smiles in response, though her eyes glint in a way that Ashara finds vaguely unsettling, and ever so slightly familiar. Reaching out, the Princess' hands close around Ashara's own, "Please, after everything we've been through, call me Elia."

Ashara smiled as well and opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, Elia cut her off.

Grin widening in an almost feral way, the Princess said, "Or perhaps, call me Mistress, would you kindly?"

In that moment, Ashara remembered. She remembered everything, and Elia had to catch and gather the young girl up in her arms as she nearly collapsed at the onslaught on her senses. So much memory, so much, unadulterated pleasure. She even remembered Vali implanting the trigger words Elia had just used on her. Would you kindly were the words that would forever reveal Ashara's true and honest being. A state of being fully subservient to her master… and her mistress.

Staring up at Elia with eyes full of devotion and longing, her voice was husky as she spoke, "What would you command of me mistress?"

In a moment it seems like the quiet innocent Elia is replaced, as her face becomes like the monsters Ashara remembers from the boats. Like Vali's own face even, now that she remembers everything. She'd associate that face with great terror and nightmares in her fake cover personality, but here and now, she associated that face with pleasure and arousal. In an instant Ashara was baring her neck before her mistress, her pulse going strong, heart beating wildly. Not in fear, but in anticipation.

Still grinning wickedly, Elia brushes Ashara's hair from her neck, and leans down to drink from the willing girl. While Ashara melted in pleasure, Elia contemplated what Vali had shown her. He'd shown her such wonders, such power. He'd shown her the way the world did function and the way it could and should function. He'd shown her what he wanted from her, and then actually given her a choice in the matter. She'd never been given such a choice before, so could she truly be faulted for reaching out and grasping it with both hands, for fear it would scurry away before she could?

No, Elia Martell held no guilt for what she had done or what she was going to do. The Almighty One called her to service, and she answered.

Westeros would drown in blood and monsters.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Miss me?**

Jaime Lannister should have been ecstatic and to be fair, he actually was quite happy. Today he had ascended to join the ranks of the Kingsguard, kneeling and taking his oaths before King Aerys II himself. Despite the King's physical decline and growing madness, it was still an honor, was it not? Then why was Jaime's father absent from the tourney? Why had he not come to see how far his son had come?

The young man could not deny how bitter he felt over that. Perhaps that's why his eyes wandered so during the Grand Melee that kicked the Harrenhal tournament off. He was not as focused as he should have been, that was for sure. Not until Ser Jonothor Darry nudged him was he taken out of his musings, almost jumping at his fellow Kingsguard's touch. The older knight just smiled at him before pointing out at the grand melee, which was beginning to decline as fewer and fewer fighters remained on the field.

"Look at that one Lannister. Who the fuck is he, do ya think?"

Following Darry's finger, Jaime beheld a knight in the center of the field who wielded a beautiful Valyrian sword and wore shining armor that had no adornment, no house sigil. As the fighting continued, Jaime watched as the man, whoever he was, tore through opponent after opponent with a fighting skill Jaime had seen from very few warriors indeed. But what truly drew Jaime's attention was the sword itself, as its appearance pulled slightly at his memory.

"That sword… odd one, isn't it?"

Ser Darry peered closer at it before shrugging and shaking his head.

"The sword is what catches your attention? It's his armor that concerns me. I've never seen anything like it, yet he moves so easily in its confines, like its molded to his body perfectly and flows with his every movement. And the way it shines… he's taken several blows you know, and not a single one has done more than glance off him, screeching in the process. He's taking Valyrian Steel blades with barely a scratch Jaime. I want to know who the hell he is, not the history of his sword."

Pursing his lips together, Jaime shook his head.

"That's all well and good Jon, but that sword… I think it might be Brightroar."

That got the other knight's attention.

"Wha-? Brightroar? Your family's lost Valyrian Steel sword? The one lost in Essos? Don't be ridiculous."

From the older knight's tone, Jaime knew to shut his mouth about his suspicions. Now the young warrior wished even more that his father had attended the tourney. Surely Tywin would recognize Brightroar on sight and be able to either confirm or deny Jaime's feelings. As it was, all the young man had to go on was a few barely there memories of Brightroar's description and a few paintings of King Tommen Lannister holding it.

But still, the crossguard was a distinctive gold from what little Jaime could see of it. And he could swear the pommel had a lion's head on the end. The cheering crowds had fallen silent as the mysterious knight had continued demolishing his competition. He never actually stopped moving, which is why Jaime couldn't be sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. The knight's swordplay was one continuous string of strikes. He did not grow tired, he did not slow down. He moved forward inexorably, a strange combination of an unstoppable force and a fluid stream, mixing brute force with agile steps that had him going through some enemies and around others.

All fell to him though, and the stadium was silent as the knight finally did come to a stop with none left to face him. The Mad King was not out today, preferring to stay inside and avoid the glaring sun. Rhaegar Targaryen sat in his place, clearly bored and annoyed that he'd not been able to take part in the melee. Jaime rather suspected the Prince would force things to go his way when it came to the jousts later. The young Lannister did not expect the Targaryen to let anything come between him and those.

Still, all that meant it was up to Rhaegar to congratulate and reward the unknown knight. The Prince stood, staring curiously down at the man, who Jaime could admit, did indeed wear strange armor. Now that the man had stopped moving so fast, Jaime could see that there was indeed a lion head on the pommel of the sword held loosely in one hand. If that confirmed his suspicions or not, Jaime wasn't sure yet. For now, he stood silently as the mysterious knight approached the stage Rhaegar sat upon at the Prince's prompting.

"Knight. You are as skilled as you are nameless. Do you have no house to represent? Will you not grace us with even your face?"

Bowing deeply in a way that really should have been impossible in armor like the knight was wearing, he spoke up without removing his helm. His voice was distorted but very deep, almost booming throughout the silent arena. The smallfolk were listening raptly right alongside the nobles arrayed around Rhaegar.

"If it pleases my Prince, I would prefer to keep my identity to myself until after I have competed in the jousts."

Here, Rhaegar's grin turned a bit wicked, a bit savage.

"Ah, unfortunately I must inform you that while the melee is open to any and all comers, if you wish to joust, you must declare yourself. You must have a House to be allowed to participate. After all, how else can be sure you are a Ser or a Lord?"

The mysterious knight froze for a moment before a deep chuckle reverberated out from his helmet. It continued as he slowly reached up and pulled the form fitting face plate off and held it at his side, opposite of his sword. There were gasps around the arena, and Jaime's eyes widened as he took in the man's appearance. Rhaegar in particular had a visceral reaction, coming up out of his seat as he took in the very… Targaryen appearance before him.

"Hello again Prince Rhaegar. So good to meet with you under better circumstances. While I do not have a Westerosi House to lay claim to, I hope that Emperors are not barred from your little tournament."

That got even more reactions from everyone as many began to realize who exactly this was. They called him many things, but Jaime knew right away, from Rhaegar's reaction if nothing else, that this was him. The Emperor of New Valyria and some said, much of Essos by this point. The man's eyes were challenging as the wind blew his long well-kept blonde hair back from his face. He had a small wicked smile on his face like he didn't have a care in the world. He looked ready and able to fight the entire Kingsguard if he had to, and as Jaime's hand fell to rest on the pommel of his sword, his eyes flitted behind the Emperor to the field of fallen knights he'd left in his wake.

Suddenly, Rhaegar laughed and sat back down in his chair, practically falling into it.

"The audacity! I suppose I should expect no less from you, cousin. Showing up here and now… father will be quite cross when he finds out. But I, I find myself exuberant at the thought of facing you on horseback. We'll have to make sure you survive until then."

The smile on the Valyrian Emperor's face grew and took on a sly note.

"Oh, not to worry about that. I am very, very hard to kill. A pleasure to see you again Rhaegar. Do give Elia my best."

Turning, the man began to walk away just like that, leaving the field. And the Prince let him go, just like that. In fact, as Jaime turned to look at his Prince incredulously, surprised that Rhaegar would let such a blatant show of disrespect pass, he found the Targaryen deep in thought, eyes staring off into nothing, lips pressed together so tightly that they were turning white. Was he… was Rhaegar scared?

It was irrelevant, Jaime had to go after the man and with the tournament over and Ser Darry still nearby, Jaime was free to leave, so he did. Of course, many others had the same idea as him, trying to follow after the Emperor of Valyria for any number of reason. All Jaime found was more and more of these people no matter how hard he looked, all as confused and lost as he felt. It was like the man had just disappeared into thin air.

Not until Jaime had practically given up on his search did he turn a corner only to almost run into the very man he was searching for. The Valyrian was standing there, clearly waiting for him as he was smiling knowingly, Lion head Valyrian Steel Sword sheathed at his waist. Jaime's eyes flicked to it before settling on its wearer's face.

"Hello Jaime Lannister. I wonder, what could you possibly want with me."

The tone was teasing and in that moment Jaime knew that the Valyrian knew that Jaime knew what he knew. So, there was no point in beating around the bush, was there?

"That is Brightroar, isn't it? You have my ancestor's blade, my house's blade at your waist. Which means… King Tommen made it to Valyria, didn't he? What became of him?"

"Fire Zombies."

The man deadpanned it so fast that Jaime could do nothing but blink stupidly before flushing red.

"Do you take me for a fool ser?"

"The proper form of address is your Imperial Majesty, but I will let it pass Jaime Lannister. No, I do not take you for a fool. Ignorant, perhaps. Understand something young man, Westeros is a small part of this world, and even you lot have magic living right under your nose that you cannot even begin to fathom. So when I say that the Doom of Valyria turned out to be a living thinking fire that consumed your ancestor and his golden fleet before turning their corpses to the task of defending its resting place, know that I am not joking in any way."

The Valyrian's words grew more and more heated the more he spoke, and he even stepped into Jaime's personal space as he did so, coming eye to eye with the young man. To his credit, Jaime did manage to avoid taking a step backwards, but it was a near thing. Instead he settled for staring at the other man warily, deciding that arguing over things he rightfully did not understand mattered little. Brightroar was what was important right now.

"My family's sword. Will you return it?"

"Asking Jaime Lannister? Well now, that is a very good start. Not for free no, of course not. You know that though, you're smart. Speak to your father about me next. Tell him of our conversation and of the sword. Tell him, he and I will have plenty to talk about soon, and if Brightroar truly is so important to House Lannister, we can work something out. Do you understand?"

Jaime nodded jerkily, and the Emperor grinned.

"Very good. For now, you have a job to get back to. Goodbye Jaime Lannister. I'm sure our paths will cross again, soon enough."

And then the man was gone, turning another corner and disappearing before Jaime could follow. The young Kingsguard was left flabbergasted, but the Valyrian was right… he had to get back to his post. Despite the caustic nature of the Essosian, Jaime found himself rather looking forward to seeing the man compete in the jousting to take place the next day.

 **A/N: Please review, let me know what you think, let me know what you want to see next. Obviously we're going to spend at least a chapter or two more in Harrenhal.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Who knew Vali was so waffy?**

"I don't know what came over me, letting him leave like that. I've always been a bit too competitive for my own good. Father was nearly apoplectic with rage and has issued standing orders to arrest the 'Emperor' on sight, or failing that, kill him."

Elia bit her lower lip at the thought as Rhaegar paced back and forth in front of her. She rested on a pile of comfortable pillows, her hand resting on her very pregnant belly. Rhaegar might not be a match for her true Lord in any way, but there was no question the Prince was quite virile. Still, his words demanded a reaction. With a sigh, Elia got to work.

"Oh but you can't let him do that!"

There, just the proper amount of injected feminine concern had Rhaegar's thoughts derailed as he turned to look at her with a furrowed brow.

"Elia, love, he kidnapped you and Ashara, held the two of you ransom. I know you were treated well, you've told me that, but the insult to my family, to yours, it still remains. And his mere presence on Westeros is of grave concern. He is after all the self-proclaimed Emperor of Valyria. Where are his armies? Where are his people? An Emperor with no entourage? It's preposterous.

Privately, Elia thought that if Rhaegar and his father couldn't see the servants of her lord all around them, they deserved what was coming to them. Her master did not require an army to destroy them. She also caught what was unsaid in Rhaegar's little rant. What he really wanted to know was where Vali's dragon was at this time. After all, a dragon rider would not be caught dead without his steed, but there'd been no reports of such a thing in the area, no reports of dead or missing livestock either.

Of course, Elia said nothing of her true thoughts. Instead she rose from her resting place to step closer to Rhaegar, placing the palm of her hand against his cheek and turning his face so she could look into his eyes and compel him.

"Rhaegar, you must convince your father to rescind his orders concerning the Emperor. Tell him… tell him that the only way for your house to regain the honor Vali took is for you to beat him in the joust, in fair and honorable combat. Else, the other noble houses will begin to question his rule even further. Not to mention even if his armies aren't here, half of Essos will rise up and cross the Narrow Sea if we touch their ruler."

That last part was added in a deadpan tone of voice, but it did not matter. Rhaegar had already fallen under Elia's sway and he blinked before nodding along in agreement with her, causing the pregnant woman to smile wide.

"Yes, of course you're right… I have to beat him myself, publicly. Father has to see that."

"Exactly. Which means you must go to your father right now and tell him."

"Of course, you're right. Thank you Elia, as always your wisdom is only matched by your beauty and will."

Rhaegar kisses Elia on the forehead before kneeling down to kiss her pregnant belly as well, than he's gone. With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, she turns to come face to face with an amused Vali, no longer wearing his armor, but still wearing a sly grin and a raised eyebrow on his face. She can read that look easily, and Elia bows her head, slightly abashed.

"I apologize Master… he is more than a little taken with me, and I know your plan calls for him to go after Lyanna Stark."

Vali just chuckles as he steps closer to her, reaching up to run his fingers through her brunette curls. She closes her eyes, trying to nuzzle into his hand only for him to pull away instead. This gets a reaction as Elia looks up into his eyes with her own big brown soulful gaze, clearly pouting.

"It's your own fault you know! You gave me back my health, healed my frail and weak body. I am not the weak woman I grew up as. And I may have let Rhaegar see that one too many times in bed…"

Now he laughs openly, and Elia's eyes flick towards the door where she knows guards must be standing at attention. Vali catches her look and his smile widens into a grin.

"Not to worry love, I handled the guards. They won't disturb us. As for your… appetite, I am not surprised. We are very primal creatures at the end of the day, and there is a hunger to us beyond the need for blood. How was it, taking a ride on the dragon's cock?"

He's clearly teasing her, but Elia goes the demure route anyways, stepping closer to him and looking into his eyes.

"Nothing compared to you my lord. He is nothing more than a tool to advance your designs, I swear it. I only wish…"

Vali raises an eyebrow as she trails off and after a moment Elia runs her hand over her pregnant belly.

"I only wish this was yours my Master."

She looks up into his eyes, honestly disappointed that she could not be pregnant with his child instead of Rhaegar's. He smiles at her and it is surprisingly gentle the way he runs a hand along her face and then down to rest on her stomach, leaning in to touch his forehead to hers.

"She is mine Elia. So long as you still belong to my, mind, body, and soul, so will anything that comes from you."

Elia's breath hitches at the words, before she focuses on the first bit. "She?"

Vali looks at her with a knowing grin. "Well, I could be wrong, but I have a very strong feeling your first will be a daughter. And she will take after her mother in many ways."

Her face split into a wide smile and the dornish woman buried her face in his chest, clutching at him. Her Master held her to him for several long moments before pulling back. Elia looks to him, knowing he will tell her what to do and ready to soak up every last word.

"If Rhaegar's eyes refuse to stray on their own, you must make them stray. I will take care of Lyanna Stark, and together we will push them into each other's arms. The Mad King will take care of the rest when her father and brother come for her."

It doesn't even occur to Elia that she might refuse or disagree. She nods along, trusting completely in the man holding her. She knows his will is that of a God more powerful than any those on Westeros might worship. He is the Almighty One's Messenger, and it is her place to follow, not question. Still…

"Yes my lord… will you stay a while? I have missed your touch, missed showing you how deep my appreciation for your gift runs. It has been too long."

She looks into his eyes with as hopeful a look as she can muster. Elia knows from experience that men in her life can never refuse her when she gives them this look. But then, Vali is no man, and she can already see in his eyes that he will deny her, before he even says the words.

Smiling, the Valyrian Emperor plants a chaste kiss on her forehead and shakes his head. "You will have to wait longer still my beautiful pet. Your husband already begins his return, and I must… fix your guards and be gone before he arrives. And you have a task before you. But I'm sure your toy will be able to satisfy you once you're done manipulating his mind for me."

Elia nods slightly as her lord and master steps past her. She turns to watch him go, biting her lower lip even as inwardly, she can't help think that no one but he will ever be able to truly satisfy her, not after the wonders he showed her. Rhaegar, while certainly a man worthy of the House of the Dragon, was nothing compared to the Almighty One's Chosen.

-x-X-x-

Ashara's eyes were wide and filled with fright as the man above her held her down, a gloved hand covering her mouth to muffle her cries. She did not know him, did not want to be here with him. But as nothing more than a young beautiful woman, she had nothing to defend herself with against him. And her beauty was turned against her here, it was the reason she was being assaulted like this.

"Little fucking cunt, always smiling like that, teasing us men with eyes. Did ya think none of us would be willing to come and take a piece of ya? Thought yer noble blood made ya safe? I'll show ya just how much yer blood means to me. Gonna fuck ya whore, maybe fuck a baby into ya."

Her struggles redoubled at his words, but they were ineffectual as he drew his knife and placed it against her, causing her to stir. All she could do was breath heavily, helpless as her attacker ran the knife up and down her dress with a grin full of rotten teeth filling her gaze.

"Ooh, little girl is scared now, ain't she? Not going to fight me now, are y-"

Suddenly, the man was off her and the knife was away from her body. Ashara could only watch from where she lay prone as her attacker's own mouth was suddenly covered and a mouth full of fangs plunged deep into his throat, tearing it clean out while at the same time snapping the rapist's neck. The piece of trash that was now nothing more than a corpse was tossed to the side and Ashara came face to face with the monster who had rescued her.

She promptly opened her mouth to scream when he gave her a blood filled smile with far too many sharp teeth, but in the instant before she could get any sound out he was crouched in front of her, covering her mouth in a repeat of just a few moments ago. Ashara froze up in response. Had she traded a dirty peasant for a monster?

"Shhh, Ashara. Calm down, would you kindly?"

The trigger did its job and Ashara Dayne's memories came back in a rush, causing her to gasp and begin to cry tears of joy instead of terror. Her master certainly recognized the chance that came over her, because he eased up his grip on her. As soon as he had, Ashara turned and threw herself into Vali's arms, despite the blood still covering his front, nuzzling into his side.

"Master, you came back for me. I knew you would, I knew I just had to wait for you to awaken me again. Mistress does so once in a while and we have fun, but its nothing compared to you. I missed you so much."

Ashara could tell Vali missed her too, given the erection she could feel against her and the way his hands moved down her sides to cradle her ass. She looked up into her master's eyes and gave him an impish grin.

"You've saved me my lord. It only seems right that I repay you with the only thing I have."

He does not resist her, nor does he help her, as the noble lady in a very un-lady like move, begins to fumble with his belt and pants. She gets the belt undone and his pants pushed down slightly to fish out his hard cock, moaning as it fills her hands in a way she'd missed oh so much. Shifting her palms up and down she jerks him off as she looks into his eyes, looking for approval. Ashara finds it, and with another grin, she leans down and places her lips on the head of his prick, slowly sliding down its length to suck him off as he'd taught her.

The true Ashara, the one not hidden behind compulsions, was an expert cocksucker, and proud of it. Prissy noble Ashara, while a clever girl, wouldn't know what to do with a cock if one somehow found its way into her hands. Prissy Ashara would have been fucked in more ways than one without Vali having shown up, while True Ashara, if she could have broken free from the conditioning (not likely!) could have probably convinced her rapist to let her suck him off instead of filling her with his cum.

Still, the point was moot as her rapist was dead and instead she now had Vali's cock in her mouth. Ashara got to work showing her master just how grateful for the change she was, fucking her own face on his length and letting out a moan that vibrating his length as it pushed down her throat, his hands suddenly curling in her hair as he grunted. She knew that meant she was getting to him, wearing down his patience.

So of course, she stopped what she was doing and stayed where she was, looking up at him with her violet eyes as she ran her tongue teasingly up and down the underside of his length. His patient broke in the next moment and he growled before his grip on her hair shifted and he began to truly fuck her throat. She took every thrust with pleasure, gagging loudly but loving every moment of it. To be used and abused like this by her master, this was her purpose.

"Gaghk! Gaghk! Gaghk!"

Her eyes watered and tears flowed, but Ashara never took her eyes off Vali's face, staring up at him with complete and utter love and devotion as he used her mouth as he liked. When he came, without warning of course, Ashara was still more than ready to swallow down every drop, her neck convulsing as she swallowed continuously in order to get it all down without spilling even a bit.

When he finally pulled out of her sore throat, she blinked and smiled widely at the realization that he was still hard. Glancing between his thick pole and his face, she bit her lower lip, her gaze turning questioning. He grunted and finally spoke again.

"I was just with your Mistress and she has the rare ability you share to get me worked up. Unfortunately, her and I did not have the time to get properly reacquainted. So yes pet, have your fun."

Her cheeks turned rosy but her smile just widened in response as she hiked up her dress and climbed further into his lap. He reached under her dress and practically tore her undergarments off of her, before letting her do the rest as she grabbed his length and positioned it properly before slowly impaling herself on it, gasping heavily as she did so. He was as big as she remembered, and Ashara's mouth opened in a wide silent O as he filled every last bit of her passage with his cock.

Only once he was fully inside of her did she place her hands on his chest, curling them into his regal looking doublet and beginning to bounce herself up and down in his lap. His hands moved under her dress to rest on her hips, gripping her soft pliant flesh so hard she was sure there'd be marks the next morning. The true Ashara wondered how Prissy Ashara would explain the marks away, but she supposed her master had a plan for that. He always did.

It wasn't Ashara's place to worry about such things, so she focused on the task in front of her, panting and moaning cutely as she slid up and down Vali's length slowly, sensually. This allowed her to make each stroke unique, coming down on him in a new way each time so his cock hit different parts inside of her, letting the pleasure reach new heights.

She came before he did, climaxing with a loud moan and falling against his chest panting, exhausted. He used his firm grip on her hips at that point to fuck her to his own peak, her trembling fragile body taking his powerful thrusts until he came inside of her, filling her womb with his seed. She blinked and looked at him in surprise and with a bit of a questioning look on her face. Vali just smiled and brought a hand up to stroke her face.

"I'm glad I ran into you again my darling. It's time for you to join me and your mistress. Not physically, not quite yet… but it is time for you to take your place among the Blessed."

Biting into his wrist, he offers her his blood and Ashara does not hesitate, drinking deeply from her master, luxuriating in this gift happily. Then, he snaps her neck and she falls against his chest once more, bonelessly this time. He cradles her until she wakes up, and when she does, the first thing Ashara sees is her master's smiling face above her. Vali directs her to the still cooling corpse of her rapist nearby and Ashara drinks from the dead human at his instruction, the change completing.

Now they stand together, more than a little blood staining Ashara's dress and Vali's doublet. He rests his forehead against hers, his hands curling in her hair as she stares into his eyes with absolute trust.

"You must return home for now, to your family. There will come a time soon when you will join me at my side. Here is what you must do…"

Ashara listens as Vali outlines his plan. She'd known he would have one, and as he listens, she nods along in complete agreement. The noble woman would do whatever her master commanded of her. How could she do anything else?

 **A/N: I WONDER WHAT VALI TOLD ASHARA (its really obvious)**

 **Also, in regards to Ashara and what we know of her history, I decided that instead of a dalliance with Ned Stark, she was actually raped at the Tourney of Harrenhal by some common fucker, impregnated by it, and when her brother died and the baby came out stillborn at the same time, she killed herself. Because we know Ned didn't get Jon from her. (R+L=J obviously)**

 **And Elia is still pregnant at this time because Vali's kidnapping of her delayed things by a few months.**

 **As always, please gib feedback. Next chapter as currently planned is Jousting, Vali and Lyanna, and maybe more jousting?**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Because fuck it, what's a year and some change, right? I think originally, when I was focused on this fic last, I intended to spend more time at the Tourney of Harrenhal fucking about. But that just didn't work out, and if this is ever going to go anywhere, we gotta move past that.**

 **Soooo, enjoy I guess?**

 **-x-X-x-**

"We must take the fight to them, immediately! There is no other choice, after the atrocities dealt to our families, to Ned and I!"

Jon Arryn valiantly resists the urge to sigh, instead flaring his nostrils as Robert slams a fist into the table before him in an effort to make clear his intentions. Beside the young man sits an equally young man, but where Robert is fire and wroth made manifest over what has taken place in the past few weeks, Eddard Stark is quiet, introspective… icy. One should not mistake his silence as Robert rants and raves for fear or cowardice though. Jon has raised both boys, and he knows when Ned is angry. Ned is very angry at this point.

Still, the aging Lord Paramount of the Vale is beginning to wonder if he will have cause to regret putting forth Robert as a possible candidate for the throne. It was necessary, if their rebellion was to gain any traction of course, but at the same time, the young Baratheon Lord was not yet tempered by experience, nor by battle. He was ready and raring for a fight… and Jon could tell that the other Lords who sat around the room were split down the middle by age on how exactly to react to Robert.

Those who were older looked at him with some disdain, frowns on their faces. Those who were younger were just as eager to shed blood as Robert was, be it in the name of glory or in the name of decency… it was clear that they did not care. Regardless, this was the first counsel of this fledgling rebellion, and it was up to Jon to make sure it went smoothly.

Especially since it was taking place in HIS house, the Eerie decidedly the best place for them to meet and plan their next steps, given that the Targaryens no longer had dragons and thus the Vale was the most naturally defended place in all of Westeros. Because they were meeting in his hall, under his roof, Jon had some say in the proceedings. Of course, it helped that he'd also raised both Robert and Eddard from boyhood to manhood.

Standing from his seat, Jon rests a hand on his young charge's arm.

"The Mad King will pay for his actions, Robert. But I urge caution as we prepare for battle. Despite his actions, he is not alone. There are still those who flock to his banner. This will not be an easy rebellion, it will be a hard-fought war. And no one ever won a war by charging blindly into the fray without first considering the battlefield."

Luckily, Jon's words reach Robert's ears. The young Baratheon grimaces as if tasting something sour, but in the end, he nods and sits as Jon does the same. Looking around the room, Jon is well-pleased to see the older lords nodding approvingly, while the younger lords have considering expressions, as if weighing the merit of his words.

Grunting as if to calm himself, Robert speaks in a more measured tone, albeit one that is still gruff as he looks Jon's way.

"You are right of course, Jon. Still, what would you have me do? The Tyrells already march on Storm's End. Stannis will hold the castle for as long as he is able, but every moment that my Lyanna rests in Rhaegar's grasp, I grow weary of waiting. Ned deserves justice for his father and brother. I deserve justice for the theft and Seven knows what else of my betrothed. Both King and Prince mad… it is time that the Seven Kingdoms had a new family on the Iron Throne! The Targaryens have overstayed their welcome on Westeros!"

"Here, here!"

There's a general cry at that, and Jon can't help but smile a bit. When Robert calms down, he can certainly weave a phrase. He will make a good King, if it goes that far. For now, he is merely Lord Robert Baratheon. But in that moment, as both old and young lords alike raise their goblets in Robert's name, Jon can all but see the crown sitting regally upon the young man's head.

Of course, the next moment an inhuman, ear-splitting roar shakes the entire room, and pandemonium ensues. Jon's eyes go wide and he's on his feet only a second slower than his charges. Robert and Ned draw their swords, as does pretty much everyone else in the room as yet another screech rips through the air, the volume causing some of them literal pain.

A guard rushes into the room, eyes wide with terror and fright as he holds his helm to his head, as if afraid it will fall off of him.

"… M-milords!"

He's obviously searching for the words and not finding them, as he falls silent after that, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. Robert is the first to reach him, grabbing the poor guard by the shoulders as he shakes him hard.

"What is it?! Speak clearly!"

Another ground-shaking roar splits the air and that seems to finally shake the guard free of his stupor, long enough to say what he's been trying to say.

"D-Dragon!"

And then he faints. Jon spares but a momentary thought to being ashamed and upset with the guard, considering he was dressed in Vale Livery, and clearly one of Jon's own. But then what the man says fully processes, as it does with everyone else in the room. In that moment, one of two reactions take place, and once again it seems mostly split down the middle by age. The Lords in the room either freeze in fright… or snarl and rush out the doors after Robert and Ned as they lead the charge.

Jon can't deny that he initially freezes, but when he sees his boys rushing from the hall, he moves after them. The older lords follow, and soon everyone is outside, staring up into the sky as they lay eyes upon the guard's claim, finding him to have been telling the truth. The dragon, for that is all that the massive, flying creature can be, lets out one more roar. Then, it wings about for a final pass, before landing on a large, open outcropping that's just one staircase up.

Robert once again leads the charge with Ned only inches behind him, but Jon tries his damnedest to catch up to the two boys, even pushing through some of the younger lords to make it to the top of the terrace only moments after they do. Everyone has stopped close to the top, leaving new arrivals to spread out in a wary half circle, all giving the living, breathing dragon a wide, WIDE berth.

But Jon's eyes barely linger on the dragon itself. Instead, his gaze quite quickly fixates on the rider. Dressed in a full set of glimmering plate armor, it's sheen almost unnatural, the rider is wearing a draconic-styled helmet, obscuring his features as he runs a gauntleted hand along the back ridges of his massive mount.

He ignores them for a moment, until Robert, so brash, so brave… so damn foolish, roars a question.

"Who the fuck are you supposed to be?!"

Even Ned covers his face with his palm as Jon finally lets out that sigh that he's been holding in for so long. The Lord of the Eerie lifts his fingers and presses the bridge of his nose together, the headache caused by the dragon's roars only building further, despite the beast's relative silence now. The armored man's head turns towards the gathered lords at around the same time that Ned elbows Robert and leans in to murmur to his best friend.

"Idiot, have you listened to anything Jon's taught us? There's only one man in the world who has dragons these days."

Robert glances Ned's way, his brow furrowed for a moment before a spark of realization finally settles in his eyes and he stiffens, looking back to the rider as said rider finally begins to dismount. Jon pulls himself to his full height as he considers the man before them, knowing who it is long before the rider reaches up to pull off his draconic helm.

The Emperor of New Valyria, hell, all of Essos certainly looks Targaryen enough, though he lacks the eye color and the thin face that was characteristic of most of the Targaryen Dynasty. His hair is also just a bit dirtier than the standard silver-white that the Targaryens boasted. But when backed with a dragon, these minor details seemed so… small.

The Emperor gives a short bow of his head. Nothing truly respectful, and his wicked grin shows just how little he thinks of his actions when he looks up again. Holding his helm in one hand, the armored man spreads his arms wide.

"Greetings, Robert Baratheon, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. Greetings, Eddard Stark, Lord Paramount of the North. Greetings, Jon Arryn, Lord Paramount of the Vale. Greetings… the rest of you. It is a pleasure to finally meet all of you in the flesh. And by all of you, I of course mean the three that I named. I actually have no idea who the rest of you are."

There's some mild outrage at that, but no one actually lifts their voice in the presence of the man's dragon. Robert very well might have, if he'd been ignored, but instead he'd gotten first billing, and Jon can already see that going to the young man's head as he puffs out his chest a little. Ned, meanwhile, is a bit more concerned, his brow furrowed. A glance from the young Lord of Winterfell to Jon tells him why Ned is so worried. Why did he and Robert deserve to be named before Jon, after all?

But Jon understands. He understands all too well. He can imagine why the Emperor is here, and he leans close to Robert, murmuring as quietly as he dares, never taking his eyes off of the smiling dragon rider.

"He knows of the rebellion, Robert. He knows of your position in it. He will try to use you."

If not for a slight nod from Robert, Jon would think the young man hadn't heard him, as he steps forward, leaving the 'safety' of the half circle of sword-wielding lords to stand apart.

"And what, pray tell, would an Emperor want with someone like me?"

Ah, that was good. Robert could do self-deprecating very well when he wanted to, even if all who knew him also knew that he truly thought the world of himself. Still, it seems to be the right tact to take, as the Valyrian Emperor gets right to the point.

"The Targaryen King has offended me. I wish to help you end him."

There are murmurs from the crowd behind them at that, and Jon presses his lips tightly together, even as Ned unknowingly mirrors the action beside him. Robert, meanwhile, plants his hands on his hips and lets out a sharp bark of laughter.

"Hah! What if we don't want your help?"

"You might not want it. But you will need it."

The Emperor makes a show of looking over the assembled lords. Even Jon finds himself bristling at the insinuation, despite it being somewhat true. This early in the rebellion, they were indeed small in number. There was no doubt that if the sum total of their forces were to meet the sum total of the Targaryens' tomorrow, they would not come out the victors.

But he had ideas for how to change that, alliances to call on and forge with the other Houses. Aerys had proved his insanity, and Jon knew he could use that, along with his reputation, to convince more lords to their side. Still… if they had a dragon on their side, the rebellion would be as good as over. And even Robert knew that.

"… What would you want for your help? I know you do not offer this out of the kindness of your heart."

The Emperor's lips curl upwards further into a wider smile, and he chuckles at Robert's words.

"You are not wrong. There are many things I want. Some of them are even here, on Westeros. But, I do not think you can afford to pay the price for all of them. For instance, if you wished the assistance of my dragons, then I would have to lay claim to the entire continent in recompense."

That gets a snarl from Robert, along with angry mutterings from the lords behind him.

"You think we would trade our Mad King for another dynasty of dragons?! Never! If you do not offer the use of your dragons, what could you possibly give? What could you possibly want in return? Speak plainly, man!"

Jon resists the urge to let out another sigh. Robert's patience had officially worn thin, and he knew that the only thing keeping the young Lord from escalating to violence was the massive dragon backing the Valyrian Emperor up. Still, said Emperor doesn't look to upset by Robert's outburst. He's still smiling, even now.

"Very well, to the heart of the matter then. I will help you with one of your largest problems, Robert Baratheon. I will rout the Tyrell army sieging Storm's End for you. In return, when this rebellion is finished, and you sit upon the Iron Throne, Dragonstone and all that lies upon it, will belong to me. That is all I require for my service. A fortress on a rock, filled with nothing but bones."

Robert barks out another laugh at that.

"A fortress on a rock at the entrance of Blackwater Bay! You wish a foothold for your eventual invasion of Westeros! Do you think me dim?"

Jon can't help but feel a moment of pride for his boy. While it WAS rather obvious, Robert should be commended for seeing through the Emperor's ploy. And judging by the impressed murmurings from behind him, there were some who did not see it as quite so obvious. Still, even now the Valyrian Emperor does not grow upset. He simply shrugs his shoulders, as he leans back against his dragon, emphasizing its presence.

"If I wanted Westeros, if I wanted to take this miserable continent from all of you, I already would have, Lord Baratheon. It took Aegon two years to conquer six of the Seven Kingdoms. I assure you, I could have all Seven within my grasp in less than one."

He speaks as if in boast, but the belief in his words is there. There is no doubt in the Emperor's mind that it would be possible. That alone sends a shiver down Jon's spine, and even Robert furrows his brow as he asks the most obvious question.

"Then why don't you?"

Shrugging his armored shoulders, the Emperor gives a far more genuine smile as he cocks his head to the side.

"Because that would be boring. Oh so very boring. Have you not figured it out yet? Westeros is my entertainment. All of you nobles, squabbling over this and that as you throw the peasants into battles, wasting their lives left and right. It's wondrously cruel, and so very monstrous of you all. And yet, none of you consider yourselves monstrous. This amuses me, I must admit. It amuses me greatly."

Before anyone can properly begin to formulate a reply to that, the Emperor seems to brighten, as if he's suddenly had an idea.

"Ah! Perhaps an oath then, hm? You lot are big on oaths. And I am an Emperor of my word. So then, Robert Baratheon, He Who Would Be King. How about this for a bargain? Same as before, I rout the Tyrells, you give me Dragonstone and all that lies upon it once your ass sits on that throne in King's Landing. And in return, I will also swear an oath, here and now, that so long as Robert Baratheon and his children remain on the Iron Throne, I will not invade Westeros. I will not so much as let my subjects raid your shores. There will be no provocation from me, so long as you and your blood rule Westeros."

Jon's eyes are wide by the time the Valyrian Emperor is done speaking. It is as much an endorsement of Robert Baratheon and his claim to the throne as it is an offer, made seemingly in good faith. When Robert looks back at Jon, seeming somewhat loss, there's only one thing the Lord of the Vale can do. He nods, ever so slightly, giving his support to this new plan.

And so, the assembled lords watch as Robert approaches the waiting Emperor, a mixture of confidence and understandable caution as he grows ever closer to both the man… and the dragon behind him.

"I accept your terms. And I'll have that oath of yours now."

Their hands clasp for a moment, before they release one another, and the Emperor straightens up, a wide grin still on his face.

"Of course. I, Emperor Vali of New Valyria and all that lies within it's domain, swear upon my life and my empire that in return for Dragonstone, I will not invade, nor even set foot in Westeros without permission from the King, so long as the Baratheon Dynasty sits upon the Iron Throne."

A simple oath, but one that felt altogether final nonetheless. Jon sensed no deceit from this 'Vali', even as the Emperor took a step back, and then another before climbing the side of his dragon to seat himself in its saddle. And yet, at the same time, there was a churning sensation in his gut. Perhaps it was the wicked, knowing look in the Valyrian Emperor's eye, right before he placed his draconic helm back on his head, as if this Vali knew something that none of them did.

The dragon's wings begin to beat, and Robert is forced to stumble back to avoid ending up flung off of the terrace by one of the massive things. Over the winds whipped up by the dragon slowly rising into the air, they all hear the Emperor call out one final time.

"Pleasure doing business with you, your majesty! I'll see you when this is all over! One routed army, coming right up!"

And like that, the Emperor was gone, and everyone was watching as the massive dragon he rode atop flew off into the distance. Robert was on his ass, looking quite undignified… but no one noticed. It was hard to pay attention to anything on the ground, when every survival instinct engrained into their genes over the last three centuries told them to always keep their eyes up when a dragon was near.

Still, Jon can't help but wonder if they've somehow made a terrible mistake, unleashing dragons on Westeros once more. So long as it was targeted at their enemies, perhaps all would be okay, but this… this did not feel right. Luckily for Jon, as the case might be, a certain Emperor had no intentions of re-enacting the Field of Fire. No, he had other ways of getting what he wanted.

-x-X-x-

As Tyrell whimpered and valiantly tried to avoid shitting himself, I gave him a wide smile and presented him with a quill already dipped in ink.

"Go ahead. Sign there, and all will be fine. Nothing to worry about."

Mace wiped the sweat from his rapidly perspiring brow with one hand, while the other shakily moved to the parchment. Still, even with the shaking, he managed to get his signature onto the document, followed by his seal in wax. Under any just system of laws, this document would have no basis in legality, given how I was coercing it out of him. But then, under this system of laws, the document still only had as much legal power as the physical power I could bring to bear when enforcing it.

Unfortunately for Mace, I could bring quite a lot of power to bear when I wanted to, as evidenced by the massive dragon outside that had flattened half his supplies and taken to roosting among the overturned wine barrels.

"I-It's settled, now?"

Taking the parchment and rolling it up, I give the Tyrell Lord a wide smile.

"Yes, it is. You may begin giving the order to your forces to retreat back to Highgarden with your tails between your legs. And when I so choose, I will come for the firstborn daughter promised to me."

In response to my words, Mace gives a tentative smile of his own. He must think he's gotten the better end of the deal. His life, for nothing more than a daughter? Heh, he doesn't even know that I'm banned from returning to Westeros until Robert's Dynasty no longer holds the throne. Oh man, he's going to be so very relieved when he finds that out in a few months.

But then, I know what sort of flower Mace manages to create in Margaery Tyrell. And I WILL be coming back for her when the time finally arrives. For now, as I exit Mace's tent and move towards Elijah, the massive dragon lazing about as it eyes me without a care in the world, I consider my next move. Truthfully, there's only one thing left to do now that I've done my part for Robert's Rebellion. Completely nullify the effect I've just had on the ongoing war, of course.

I make a show of flying Elijah away from the half-wrecked Tyrell encampment, even as they begin to pack up and go home on their Lord's orders. Tarly's already crisped dragon food, so no one else raises much protest over Mace's cowardice. Meanwhile, Elijah and I disappear off into the distance… and then, once we're out of range of human eyesight limits, I leap off of Elijah's back, following the thousands upon thousands of feet back to the earth below.

Angling myself properly, I land on one of Storm's End's towers, easily making my way into the keep from there. Avoiding detection is just as easy, and it's not long before I find my target. A young Stannis Baratheon grunts and then flails in panic as I push him up against a cobblestone wall. Then, he goes slack as my compulsion takes effect.

"Hello there Stannis. Sorry to bother you, but I figured I'd give you some advice. The Tyrells will be gone within days, thanks to little ole me. But you're not safe. You'll never be safe, not unless you maintain the garrison at Storm's End, keeping everything nice and tip top for your brother's eventual return. Understand? The best way for you to help Robert… is to not help him at all. Reinforce your family's seat and wait out the war. Otherwise, you fear you might die."

I see the compulsion taking hold in Stannis' eyes, and then I finish things up.

"You will not remember me, but you will remember my words as your own. Goodbye Stannis. Perhaps we'll meet again, though where Robert will put you instead of Dragonstone, I know not."

And then I'm gone. I have to be a bit stealthier to leave the keep behind and head off across the water to meet Elijah on one of Tarth's beaches, but eventually I'm there and back on the back of my lovely, lovely dragon. I'll keep abreast of the rebellion as it continues, but for now it's time to turn my sights homeward. The only question was, would I spend the next few months in Tyrosh or Lys before I headed over to Dorne?

Decisions, decisions…


End file.
